


A Cat Named Taco

by chrissy_sky, TerraTenshi



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Also there's a cat, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Romance, Slash, Sorta plot, Threesome, Very slash, pre-NU52, pre-boot, pre-convergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-03 10:53:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 76,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4098295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrissy_sky/pseuds/chrissy_sky, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerraTenshi/pseuds/TerraTenshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason decides to reform. Tim decides he's had enough. Ives just wants them both to stop brooding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Neither Sasha or Ives are original characters. They exist in the comics.
> 
> The title will make sense later.

-

As the door swung open and she saw her mentor’s apartment for the first time, Sasha wrinkled her nose in distaste and horror. The ceiling was cracked in places, the walls were barren and the wallpaper was brown and peeling off. The few pieces of furniture there were, looked to be pulled from the trash or flea markets. It was bigger than Sasha originally thought, as she stepped inside and looked around, but she continued to wrinkle her nose at the musty smell. 

“I know, I need to air it out,” Jason said as he moved toward a window. It was stuck and, despite his strength, took a lot of tugging to get it open.

She watched his rub his hands when he was done and sighed. “You _need_ to kill it with fire.”

“I know it’s not much--”

“Jase, we _squatted_ in better places than this.” She resisted the urge to smack some sense into the tall man. “I think prisons are better than this.”

“You’ve never been to prison,” Jason told her, and he was so pouting, the big dork, even though he would probably deny it later. “This is way better than prison. Best of all, it’s legally mine.”

“To condemn?”

“ _To fix up_.”

“Is it really legal if the money you were given was probably gained through not so savory means?” she asked archly. 

Jason ran a hand through his messy red hair. “Look, I know you don’t like Talia, but you don’t know her--”

Sasha felt herself get angrier, and it had nothing at all to do with the apartment. Jason could convert to Catholicism and become a priest for all she cared, she just didn’t want him to go around messing with the al Ghuls anymore. She told him as much.

“And I’m not,” Jason assured with a small smirk. “It’s good to know you care though.”

“Shut up, you huge dork. And you _are_ ,” she countered him angrily, “you accepted her money. Again.”

“Only a little bit,” Jason amended, holding up his arms as if to fend her off. “I’m not exactly welcome to the Wayne piggy bank at the moment, after nearly killing everyone. More than once. I’ll get a job or something and it won’t happen again. Chill out. You’re acting like it’s the end of the world, or worse, Christmas.”

Dealing with Talia al Ghul was bad enough, but she kept that to herself, not wanting to actually discourage Jason Todd from his new goal. The decision had come about last Saturday when they slipped into a small pharmacy so that Sasha could pick up a package of tampons. (Getting a prescription for birth control was a little out of the question considering that she was apparently being considered dead by the authorities, but that made her life as a vigilante a little easier.) 

Jason hadn’t even been embarrassed to go with her, which was sweet as well as confusing, but his attention had been grabbed faster than hers to the trouble they inadvertently walked in on. A young woman had been picking up her HRT prescription, and some men, who seemed to recognize the name of the drugs or were stalking her from the beginning, began to pick on her. 

Sasha had watched as Jason’s face went cold, listening to the men insult the girl, saying things like “You were born a man, it’s what God intended!” and it didn’t take long at all for Jason to snap. What followed was an impromptu lesson on binary gender being stupid and equality that was beat into them while Jason kept shouting. The owner of the pharmacy had been too shocked to call the police, and the girl--Toni, Sasha learned her name was--took a video on her phone. 

The guys had tried to fight back, but it didn’t do them much good--not against a guy as big and well-trained as Jason was. Eventually, they ran, and they helped the store owner clean up. They were given free lollipops, but Jason insisted on paying for her tampons. 

“Thank you so much,” Toni had said.

Sasha still remembered the way Jason’s jaw tightened. “Nothing to thank me for, kiddo. It’s bad enough having to live in this part of town, you don’t need assholes like that bothering you.” 

“They probably wouldn’t have hurt me,” the girl mumbled hesitantly.

“They would’ve,” he said firmly. “I know the type.”

After that, things had been different, as if helping Toni had triggered something in her mentor that had been dormant. There was no more talk about leaving, or Batman and Robin. Jason seemed more content to, there was no other word for it, patrol the old Park Row. After a week’s worth of hard work, they’d taken down a major drug dealing organization and Jason was moving into one of the old apartment buildings. It looked like it should have fallen apart during the bad earthquakes from a few years before, and was standing only out of sheer Gotham stubbornness. 

(And possibly some mutant rats, Sasha wasn’t going to let that rumor die. Anything was possible in Gotham.)

“Just help me carry more boxes up?” Jason pleaded, batting his eyelashes. “Please?”

She sighed again and set down the one in her hands, following him back down to the old beat up Ford parked by the building. While Jason probably could have afforded something better with Talia’s money, it would have drawn too much attention and it wouldn’t have been Jason’s for long. No matter how bad ass the big lug was. He knew it, apparently he used to rip off cars (among other things) in his youth. 

(He’d only told her the Batmobile story once, and only because he’d gotten a little drunk after telling her, “We’re going to drink, and you’re going to learn your limits, so it doesn’t happen at some club where some jerk will take advantage of you.” Even though Sasha had pointed out that likely wouldn’t happen because of her scars, Jason only assured her that it could happen to anyone.)

“Luckily, you don’t have much to bring upstairs,” Sasha joked.

“Ha ha,” he breathed sarcastically. 

Jason’s new neighbors eyed them with great suspicion, and definitely fear. The areas around Park Row didn’t exactly get a lot of people that chose to move in, so Sasha wasn’t necessarily surprised. She wished she could assure them that they were likely going to be much safer now, or that Jason wasn’t really an outsider. (She thought, sometimes, there might have been a part of Jason that had never left this place. Before she banished these thoughts for being far too dark and brooding.)

It would be getting cold soon, Sasha pointed out, as it was getting closer to October. So they left momentarily to find a few other items, including a cheap space heater. The one thing they splurged on was a decent coffee machine, even though most mornings Sasha caught him drinking the crap coffee from the closest gas station. He might continue to do so even after buying the machine, but it was another small change that Sasha chose to see as a positive one. 

Jason hesitated a moment, but also bought a little tea kettle.

Sasha eyed him. “You don’t even drink tea.”

The man shrugged. “I do. Did. Sometimes. Could get a craving eventually and want some herbal tea that won’t keep me up all night, sue me.”

“Okay.” She continued to eye him, doubtfully. It was suspicious and continued to nag at her. “Does this doesn’t have anything to do with the British guy that works for the Waynes?”

“No,” Jason said, voice soft. His tone was strange and Sasha chose to drop it.

Getting Jason to talk about his past wasn’t like pulling teeth--sometimes he was okay with talking about some things, and Sasha would wonder just how privileged she was to hear those things. Since other times, getting anything out of him was like trying to invade Russia in the winter. 

Sasha never felt they were topics she had to avoid. Jason was never violent toward her, just like he never showed any romantic interest. He used to treat her with kid gloves, especially after they first met and she was recovering from her injuries by Professor Pyg. Jason helped her, gave her a way to channel her rage and, eventually, something to do about it. 

Eventually, they grew comfortable around each other, but sometimes Sasha had wondered why her. Surely there were others that Jason could’ve taken under his wings, people that Batman had ‘failed’ to save. (Regardless of whether Sasha actually blamed Batman and Robin, which she didn’t, she was smart enough to realize that’s what had gotten Jason’s initial interest.)

“You know they make electric ones now?” she teased lightly. “Or you can just warm up water in the coffeemaker.” 

“S’not the same.”

Jason took his new items to the register to pay for them and Sasha let it go. 

For now.

-

His ringtone emitted a familiar melody in the relative quiet of his apartment, waking Jason instantly. He flailed, his long limbs tangling in the bedsheets he had fallen into not that long ago, as he scrambled for the cellphone. 

When he answered, a melodic laughter sounded into his ear from the device. “Ducks, Jason?” Barbara Gordon asked, and Jason could hear nothing but happiness and amusement in her voice. 

It was familiar, welcome, and something he hadn’t known he missed until recently. 

Jason glanced down at himself. Since he had just fallen into bed earlier, all he’d felt like doing, as he did most nights, was remove his clothes and flop down into bed. All he was wearing at the moment was a new pair of boxers, which were patterned with little yellow duckies, exactly like the rubber duckies Jason never got in his baths as a child. 

He laughed and flipped off where he thought Babs’ camera might be located. He was probably off. “Ducks are awesome.”

“Suuure they are,” she drawled, still amused, which only made him laugh more. 

He was tired, but it felt good to laugh, and her amusement just made it bubble up inside his chest. He forgot how exhausting being a crime fighter on the side of justice could be, but at the same time, he felt invigorated in a way he hadn’t in years. Probably not since the evening Bruce invited him into the Batmobile and asked if he wanted to be the new Robin. 

“I need you for a job,” Babs added, some of the amusement fading from her tone. 

He sat up, suddenly more alert, his head becoming clearer. “Trouble?”

“Maybe,” she answered, something unsure in her voice, but it didn’t carry a heavy sense of foreboding. 

Jason was mildly reassured as he groped around in the darkness for where he had flung his pants earlier. “What’s up?” he asked, phone still pressed to his ear as he searched.

When she replied, her tone was all business. This wasn’t Batgirl anymore, he realized, but the Oracle that was so feared and admired in the community, for her skills and strength. 

“Over the past month or so, several shell companies have ordered large quantities of volatile chemicals. During the same time period a number of other potential bomb ingredients have been stolen from various locations throughout the city. We just got word that someone had hijacked a shipment of acetone in midtown, B and R are running it down. In the meantime, someone is moving large quantities of something to an empty warehouse is unmarked trucks.”

“Huh, yeah, could be a problem,” Jason noted after listening carefully, even as he found his pants, fingers latching onto the stiff fabric of the old blue jeans. He tried to put them on with one hand, willing his long legs into them. It was harder with just the one hand, his legs stiff from exhaustion, and he could almost hear Alfred Pennyworth chiding his haphazard position on his back.

If Barbara was amused, she at least kept it to herself. “Understatement,” she said instead. “You in, Hood? I've got back-up standing by.”

“Sure, sure,” Jason said quickly, managing to get the jeans up to his hips and doing up the zipper with his free hand. He then reached for his leather jacket, slipping it on while still keeping the phone to his ear. Next were his gloves, which were easier since he used his teeth, and then hurriedly into his boots, with no hands at all. “Who is it?” he asked absently, curious. 

It could be any number of people; Oracle seemed to work with everybody. Possibly that was part of the reason why she’d made contact with him in the first place. 

Jason knew what part of the other reason was, and that was okay too, no matter how much he wished it hadn’t happened. Not to Babs. 

Himself, well, Jason thought sometimes that he probably had all the bad things coming to him. It was better to try to get over it, was the way he thought now, rather than taking it out on everyone else. 

“That would be telling,” she answered teasingly, once more sounding amused.

Jason pouted playfully around his room, at wherever the camera was located. “Aw, Babs. That’s not playing fair.”

“If you want fair play, you’re in the wrong business,” she said. “Now move. The sooner you get your butt in gear, the sooner you’ll find out.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Jason grumbled, taking his guns--armed with pellets rather than bullets, as he wasn’t trying to outright kill people anymore. He stuffed them into his jacket, along with the rest of his equipment, and rushed out the door, heading upstairs to the roof. 

Pushing the old metal door open, he stepped outside on the roof of his building into the crisp, chill early morning. It was the time of year when the days were getting cold and the nights were even colder, but before the rain and thunderstorms had turned into snow. 

He slipped the familiar red domino over his eyes, adjusted to the shift in light as he turned on the night vision lenses, and released a grappling hook toward the next building over. He soared into the night, following Babs’s instructions in his ear through the comm connected to his mask. 

(It was a cool little device, much more sophisticated than they used to work with when he was a kid, and he couldn’t say he minded the addition to his arsenal. Yet another perk to trying to be a ‘good guy’ again. He got all the neat toys now.

Sometimes he missed the other things, like assault rifles and flamethrowers, but not enough to return to that life.) 

-

A dark shadow streaked through the night sky and Tim’s body tensed as he saw it, assuming that it meant trouble for himself if not the current situation.

He shouldn’t have been surprised, not after he informed Oracle of the specifics of his current case when he made the call in for some assistance. Barbara had all but mama birded at him, after he took off after the stolen potential bomb ingredients on his own, while Dick and Damian were supposed to take care of the rest. 

He tried to tell her that just because he had walked into one warehouse that exploded while he was inside, didn’t mean he was going to avoid all warehouses again for the rest of his life. 

To which she replied, “No, Tim, not when you’re _still recovering_ from the last explosion. I’m only letting you go because I don’t have a choice, but you’re going to have backup.”

 _So this was his backup,_ it seemed. As the figure was so very tall, Tim was already assuming that it was Jean-Paul, who used to work with him all the time when he was much younger. He’d been the one to guide Jean-Paul through his initial beginnings as a vigilante crime fighter, even partnering with the man and the two of them narrowly escaping the likes of Bane. 

But they hadn’t worked together much since the man, in a fit of religious fanaticism, tried to kill him. Tim had trust issues, he could admit that, but no more than any other crime fighter who had been active as long as he had. 

Perhaps more than people his age though. It depended on what context people wanted to look at his issues from, he supposed. 

Or possibly worse, it could be Bruce, since Tim knew that Dick was still busy with Damian taking care of their part of the current mission. Tim still wasn’t ready to have talks with certain members of the family, let alone work with them. 

He itched to scratch at his hair, which was regrowing a little more slowly than his skin had thanks to having visited with some meta healers after the explosion. (Which had been at both Dick and Barbara urging him to do so, not having wanted to admit to needing help, and Alfred’s guilt tripping, silent disapproval.) 

Tim turned from where he was crouched in a corner of the roof, looking away from his inspection of the warehouse in question. He blinked several times from behind his cowl as a tall, masculine figure he hadn’t expected came toward him from out of the shadows. 

He was suddenly grateful for his choice to wear a cowl that protected so much of his head. It hid his blush as much as the darkness. “Hood,” he greeted, his voice sounding strange in his own ears and he hoped that Jason wouldn’t notice. 

Barbara had sent _Jason freaking Todd?_ He wanted to turn the mic back on and demand what had possessed her to do so, because if she suspected the truth, the real reasons for becoming Robin and for breaking Jason out of jail not long ago, then Tim’s life would surely tumble down more around him. 

The choice had seemed so simple at the time, but things had changed since then. He had changed, both by the explosion that Ulysses, the new Anarchy, had set for him, and since becoming Red Robin. Since so many people he loved had died. 

Red Hood simply stood there, looking at him for a moment, before he spoke. “Oh, crap. Babs didn't say it was you. Um. Hi.”

The last part came out so awkwardly, making Tim remember that the older man was actually not that much older than himself. Jason should have been around nineteen or twenty. It made him remember that Bruce had commented once (not to him, but Tim was aware of the conversation) that if he hadn’t died, Jason would have been in college at that time. 

It was a strange mental image. Tim tried to imagine Jason attending the kind of college or university that the Wayne family could afford. His large frame dressed in a sweater vest, tie, and blazer, decorated with the school logo, possibly with a pair of fake glasses on his nose in order to fit in. As Tim had done when he attended boarding school. 

An odd mental image, but not exactly a displeasing one, and maybe in the grand big multiverse, there was a Jason Todd that had lived that life. As well as a Tim Drake that had never become Robin himself, but who had never had to lose his idols, his friends, his father. 

As his thoughts turned depressing, he pushed them to the back of his mind. It was time to focus on the problem at hand. 

Tim nodded slightly, because he hadn’t been told the identity of his partner either so he could sympathize with the surprise, and looked away. He assumed that the man’s discomfort was because the man had never held him in a very high regard, not that Tim blamed him. Jason called him a ‘replacement’ during one of their encounters and had never argued with that, no matter how much pride he had come to have in being in the role of Robin. 

He’d began by merely filling in, after all. It wasn’t supposed to be for this long, just to keep Bruce from killing himself. Gotham needed Batman. 

“She was pretty insistent about me not going alone, and doesn’t really like people arguing with her, so... thanks. And hi.”

“No prob,” Jason replied, and he made it sound like he really didn’t have an objection to temporarily working with Tim. 

Even if he was faking it, as Tim suspected, he appreciated it. 

“Ready?”

Tim cleared his throat. “Shirt?” he asked, meaningfully motioning at Jason’s front.

“Huh?”

“You aren’t wearing a shirt, Hood.”

Red Hood looked down at himself, as if just now noticing that his chest and abs were uncovered, revealing the jagged paths of old and slightly newer scars over the wide plains of his built frame. Also, because of the cold, his nipples were erect, a fact that stood out absurdly in his mind and Tim cursed himself for being fixated on this.

“Oh.” The taller man zipped up his leather jacket, to give himself what little cover it would provide, and smiled in a decidedly sheepish way at Tim. “Sorry, Babs woke me up. I was patrolling earlier and just plopped into bed…”

“S’okay,” Tim mumbled, embarrassed, because he really had no problem with this, or with the mental image that Jason’s words provided. Imagining the state of Jason’s undress in bed was not exactly what he needed to be thinking about currently, however, and he tried to also push it away. 

“How do I look?” Jason asked, face contorting foolishly as he posed like, there was no other way to think about it, like a supermodel. “Better?”

He felt his face warm up under the cowl. It had been a long time, it felt like years, since the last time someone had joked with him about anything. He’d certainly never expected that person to be Jason Todd. “Fine,” he managed to choke out. 

He couldn’t decipher the look behind the domino--Jason had forgone the large red helmet for some reason, but it was nice--as he motioned toward the warehouse. “Shall we?”

Tim nodded as he steeled himself. This was actually going to happen, he was going to work with Jason after the man had tried to kill him, had nearly brought Gotham to its knees while plotting his revenge against the Joker. 

Even if Jason really was trying to reform, Tim had to stay vigilant and ready for the worst. It had happened before. Many times. Once before, technically, with this very man.

Tim forced himself to nod and be casual. “After you.” 

Jason grinned and released a grapple hook to the roof the warehouse, flying across much more agilely than someone with his size should have been able to. It was even more mind-boggling when taking into consideration that the man had already been patrolling that night. 

Tim followed after him, trying very hard not to stare at Red Hood’s ass, which was currently being accentuated by the old jeans he was wearing. He wasn’t wearing a belt and as he landed on the warehouse, the jeans slipped down enough to reveal his boxers and what could have been little duck patterns on them. 

Tim tore his eyes away, trying to focus on anything else, and caught sight of Jason grinning at him before sliding in through the skylight. He followed as silently as he could, catching hold of his cape and keeping it close in order to be stealthy. 

He almost envied Jason for not wearing a cape, but Tim’s was made of special material that added more protection to his back, which had come in handy over the years. He wouldn’t be getting rid of it anytime soon and he could sneak around with it regardless. 

Jason was still grinning, making no comment to Tim’s staring and he was hoping the man hadn’t noticed. The grin began to make him slowly feel more relaxed and it was easier to focus.

The two of them moved quietly along the catwalk, watching the darkly dressed figures below and taking in the familiar sight of people working on chemical bombs. The ingredients were spread out on a few tables, which they worked on and moved around, movements careful so as not to disturb one another’s work. 

It was Tim’s first instinct to circle around to the other side of the catwalk, to put some distance between them as they prepared to catch the criminals by surprise. He remembered Babs’ words and stopped himself, following Jason instead. If she found out that he hadn’t stuck with Jason, even if nothing happened, she would most likely be vexed with him. Even after years of working together, he didn’t want to face Oracle’s disapproval. 

Jason didn’t try to separate from him either, or to send Tim to another location, which made the teen wonder if he felt the same way. Especially when the man stopped and motioned at him and the men below meaningfully. After a few seconds, Tim understood his meaning.

He shook his head, meaning that he was fine if Jason wished to take the lead, and hoped he wouldn’t come to regret the decision. Tim wanted to see what he would do and just hoped, if the worst happened (again), he could stop Red Hood in time to save lives. 

Jason gave him another big, reckless smile before leaping over the railing bar and falling to the ground, getting a drop on their targets. 

He was right behind the taller man, covering Jason’s back and blind spots, which he was aware of from fighting against him three times now, the facts having been mentally filed away with all the other information he had on Jason. He allowed Jason to move freely, surprised that the man fought mainly with his fists and without weapons, though Tim suspected he was carrying regardless. 

He was mainly focused on making sure no one could sneak up on Jason, herding the bad guys away from work tables and their chemicals, so that they could no longer continue to hover and work on their dastardly schemes. 

They were, as he had already noticed, dressed entirely in black. Up close, they dressed so similarly to ninja that Tim wondered if the Demon’s Head was somehow behind this. It wouldn’t really surprise him of Ra’s was trying to once again gain a foothold in Gotham, as he had in other parts of the world. The Demon’s Head’s reach was long and insidious. 

He was so focused, however, the he almost didn’t notice one until Jason was already swinging around. Tim looked in time to see Jason catch the ninja with his long legs, hiss, “Oh no you don’t!” bringing the black clad man down with his powerful thighs. 

Tim was startled. He was far from the naive boy who used to have assailants sneak up on him when he was unaware. He didn’t make mistakes like that anymore, or so he had believed, he had too much training and experience for it. He tried to reassure himself that mistakes happened occasionally, even with training and experience, but the voice of doubt that always creeped within his mind became suddenly sharp and loud. 

He was reminded of all his faults and mistakes lately. How he had failed friends, allies, and family alike, that in some cases, their deaths had been his fault. He failed loved ones by not being there for them, physically or emotionally, leaving a string of broken hearts and forgotten friendships in his wake. 

He just wasn’t good with people and didn’t know if he ever could be. He wasn’t even sure he was very good at being a crime fighter, when it often seemed like he wasn’t. 

He should be better than this. 

Once again, he tried to find focus, and doubled down on the remaining bad guys. He was tying up his share of them when he noticed something out of his peripheral vision and spoke up instinctively. “Jason?”

“Yeah, gorgeous?” Jason hummed, his tone thoughtful, not flirtatious.

Despite that, Tim felt his face growing warm at the compliment. “I think you're about to step on a tripwire,” he told him.

Jason hissed and jerked back from the table, before even looking himself. “Shit.”

Tim finished tying up the last ninja before coming over to take a look at it. 

“I missed it,” Jason confessed, looking sheepish and even a little grateful. “Thanks.”

Tim nodded as he examined it. He would have felt good about himself, returning the favor for Jason’s earlier save, before he noticed something else. “Looks like it was miswired anyway,” he murmured aloud, pulling a compact tool set out of his belt to fiddle with it. No sense in leaving it active even if it was a dud. 

“You didn't know that,” Jason argued. “Thanks.”

Tim shrugged, but the assertion made him smile a little, uncertain if it actually made them even or not. It wasn’t just about owing Jason Todd a favor, either, but he didn’t think he could allow himself to begin trusting the man after everything that Jason had done as Red Hood. 

Though it was undeniably tempting. 

It wasn’t just his trust issues, but they also weighed heavily on his hesitation. 

He resumed disassembling the trigger mechanism, half listening as Jason reported into Oracle from his comm. 

“Good job,” she replied back. “Ready for the lovely GCPD to receive an anonymous tip?”

“Yup,” Jason confirmed, “should be fine. We’ll be on our way in a sec.”

“Alright, chickadees.” 

Tim rolled his eyes from beneath his mask at the bird pun. Beside him, he heard Jason snort softly.

“Ready, _chickadee_?” Jason asked.

Tim fought another blush as he realized the question was directed at him, and nodded, putting his tools away. 

He didn’t fight it when Jason put a strong arm around him, lifting them up with a grapple back to the platform above, but he remained stiff and uncertain at the hold until Jason let him go. Despite their history, the man still hadn’t tried to hurt him, and Tim wasn’t sure how to feel about it, no matter how wary he remained. 

Together, they fled back to the rooftop where they met up originally, and stood in the shadows watching as the police arrived with the loud fanfare from their sirens. Tim sat, crouching against the cold stone as he watched the bust. It was cold out, but Jason and his body heat remained close, his larger body blocking some of the wind, which made it more bearable. 

A large shoulder nudged his much smaller one, but not enough to hurt. In fact, it was lighter than the similar contact he might have expected from Kon or Bart. 

“So, what's up with this? That's the second suit of mine that you've worn.”

His tone was light, but Tim tensed slightly anyway. “I needed a change.”

Jason smiled at him. “Me too.”

“Change is good, I guess,” Tim added hesitantly, something about Jason’s smile making him feel like he should add something. Again, he was reminded that social interaction really was not his forte. 

“Change is just evolution,” Jason said, sounding far wiser, not just world-weary, than Tim thought him capable of. “It’s necessary.”

“Mm.” While Tim didn’t necessarily disagree, he definitely did not want to admit to Jason Todd that this hadn’t been a decision of his own. Dick had _fired him_. 

Jason emitted a wide yawn, which drew Tim out of his brooding again.

“Sorry, you must be tired,” he said, after remembering that Jason had mentioned being in bed when Barbara called him. “Want to head back?”

“Mm, yeah.” The man stood and stretched his long limbs, giving Tim another peek at the boxers and revealing he’d been right about the ducks. It was a miracle he hadn’t been seriously hurt tonight despite the lack of safety clothing. 

“Gonna have to bail on ya,” the man continued. “You’ll be fine?”

“Yeah, I got it,” Tim assured, already turning back to the scene. Below them, the GCPD continued to clear the building of ninjas and their paraphernalia, though some of it they were waiting for the bomb squad to arrive for.

Also, if he stayed there a while, he was more likely to avoid Dick and Damian as much as possible. Relations with them were slightly better than just after Dick had forced him to give up Robin, but all was not entirely forgiven yet. Progress had been made but that was all Tim would allow for the time being, hence avoiding them. 

“Well, that was fun,” Jason said as he began to walk away from him. “Until next time then? Just remember, replacement, I still haven’t given you permission to wear my suits!” 

Tim whirled toward him, his entire body going still and tense, filled with the worst possible hurt and crushed hopes that he hadn’t felt since Dick had taken Robin. 

Jason didn’t notice, already disappearing into the night, and for that much he was grateful. The man hadn’t sounded mad, but the words rang in Tim’s mind, taking on more and more of an accusing tone until Tim was forced to call it a night. 

He headed to his newly renovated home, removing the suit that now made his skin crawl, and it felt like he could breathe again when he was undressed. 

Tim looked forlornly around his home, seeing only a few items that made the place really seem like _his_. Mostly it was just a place he slept in, not actually lived in. It made him feel sad suddenly, and very much alone. 

For the first time in awhile, he wished he was still in school. If he had chosen to go to college, he might have Ives and other friends, or even homework, to distract himself from his current thoughts. 

(Then he tried not to think of Ives, because that made him feel a spike of regret and loneliness, sharp in his chest.)

As it was, he just wanted to be anywhere but there. 

Coming to a decision, Tim moved to his laptop and accessed his bank accounts. He had a few in his own name, but a few others in aliases that no one knew about. 

It took a week, long enough for him to have more than a few second thoughts about what he was doing. Bruce’s words about duty, both to the city and to himself, went in circles around his thoughts, but so did Jason’s words about him just being a replacement. 

In the end he transferred all of his funds to the hidden bank accounts, packed a few of his belongings, and left Gotham. 

-

TBC.


	2. Meeting Ives and the Cat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... unplanned hiatus on this one is now over. Sorry about that.
> 
> Ives is still not an original character.

Chapter Two: 

-

Jason tested the doorknob before he pushed open the old carriage house’s back door. It gave with no resistance and he opened it wide, looking around the dark interior of the house. 

It was very different than when he last saw it. Before he died, this particular building on the Wayne property was long since abandoned, a much larger garage having been built closer to the mansion, and it hadn’t been too structurally sound regardless. Alfred simply told him not to go inside (which had been tempting the first few months, because Jason suspected there were some old cars inside). 

The carriage house had been completely renovated, inside and out. He had a hard time believing it was the same building. The old cars were long gone, if they had ever been. Instead, inside were comfortable furniture and high tech amenities that made Jason’s apartment look like a neanderthal’s cave. 

“A cave would be cleaner,” Babs commented in his ear, when he made this observation out loud. 

Jason ignored the comment about his house keeping skills. “Are you sure he's not home? The door's not locked.” 

“He hasn't gone in or out of the house or grounds in almost a week. The security system also hasn't be turned on in that time.”

He could hear the worry in her voice. “Yeah, doesn't seem like our paranoid Robin at all.” He walked further into the home, heading toward the kitchen to poke around first. If Babs was wrong--which he kind of doubted, but Drake was a clever kid--then the kitchen would have signs of someone being there. “Not that I know him especially well or anything," he added quickly.

“I do and you're right, it isn't like him,” Babs commented. "And don't pretend there wasn't a time you didn't study us all very carefully. You're not as dumb as you pretend to be."

Jason hummed in reply, neither arguing or agreeing, as he inspected take away boxes left on the counter. “He's been big on take out lately.”

“Also not like him,” Oracle confirmed. 

He found the garbage can under the sink, and wrinkled his nose as the smell assaulted his senses. “He didn't take out the trash or clean up too much, so I'm thinking we can rule out things like suicide.”

Her voice got decidedly frosty at his comment. “Don’t joke, Jason,” she said, and it was definitely her Oracle, scourge of the underworld, voice. 

Jason winced as he too realized how that must have sounded. He really needed to learn how to edit himself again, if he was going to keep working with capes again. “Sorry, that was meant to be reassuring,” he said and meant it. “Not a joke.”

Babs didn’t know just how many cases he found of kids who were runaways, or who had been kicked out of their homes by asshole parents that shouldn’t have been given the privilege. How desperate, depressed, and lost those kids were, that they had no choice but to live in Crime Alley. 

Jason knew, though. He remembered their names, if he got to talk to them first and try to get them into a better situation. He checked up on them afterwards, at the shelters or apartments they were staying in, and tried to provide an understanding ear, if they wanted to talk, or to reassure them there was nothing wrong about needing their meds, if they were supposed to be taking them. (He could even offer sympathy, given his own history and what the Lazarus pit had done to his mind.) He didn’t think he helped that much, he had no idea what he was doing and didn’t want to make it worse, but he followed a lot of Leslie Thompson’s cues and she assured him he was doing good by the kids.

Then there were the ones that had no names, that he didn’t find in time. Sometimes he found them murdered on the street, victims of drugs or sex exchanges gone wrong. Other times he found them alone in a bedroom or somewhere they had been squatting, and Jason honestly wasn’t sure what was worse. 

But he did know one thing--he had wasted so much time dealing with his madness, whether or not it had been artificially induced by the Lazarus Pit or not. He had to keep trying to help people in his childhood home now.

One good thing that came out of associating with Leslie again was that she began his own treatments. That he was getting help too went a little ways in allowing the kids to listen to what he said. 

It wasn’t all kids that reminded him too much of himself, though. There were ones like Toni, who had already been trying to take care of themselves and who just needed help staying safe. He and Sasha had kept in touch with the girl, just in case she or her friends got into more danger. It was almost like having friends who weren’t capes, something Jason hadn’t really had before. 

“It’s not a joke,” Babs said, her tone still hard. “Tim isn't the kind of person who just drops off the grid without telling anyone.”

Jason felt like a contrite puppy at her tone, and he moved around the cottage with a metaphorical tail between his legs. He reminded himself that Tim was also just a kid, and in Babs’ eyes he was more like a little brother, and she was more worried about him than angry at Jason. Barbara had asked him for help, that was why he was here. 

“Well, there's no signs of a struggle,” he added, hoping that was more reassuring. “If he was taken, it happened quick.”

As soon as he said it, he realized that thought wasn’t actually reassuring either. If Tim was taken by someone with that much skill, they would have a harder time bringing him home before something happened to him. The more time passed in a kidnapping or disappearance, the less the chances became of finding them. 

“He would have left signs if he could,” Babs said instead of scolding him again, her voice back to business instead of angry. “Unless…”

“Going up the stairs now,” Jason alerted her as her voice trailed off. “Unless?”

“Ra's al Ghul has a bit of an interest in Tim,” she told him, her voice troubled. 

“Shit, not that asshole again,” Jason grumbled, checking the upstairs bathroom for anything, but the shower curtain wasn’t even wet. There wasn’t a toothbrush, though, which began to fill his thoughts with other ideas.

To confirm his idea, he walked back out into the hallway and found Tim Drake’s bedroom. He stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the mess. “Well, this is different.”

“What?” she demanded sharply over the line.

“Don't freak, it's just messy. Things thrown around and such. Nothing's ripped or broken though, as far as I can tell.” 

He began to pick his way through the discarded clothes, picking some of them up to look them over. It, weirdly, felt far more intimate to be in Tim’s room than it had the rest of the house. The way it felt, even with the mess in the kitchen, didn’t make it seem like someone actually lived there. The bedroom was different, though, and not just because of the mess. It even _smelled_ a little more like the kid. 

To make it worse, he kind of _liked_ the smell. It was a musky, male scent that Jason couldn’t help but notice that night a week ago, when he’d grabbed the kid and lifted him back up to the roof. 

He could almost still _feel_ the kid’s kevlar clad body pressed against his own, too.

Jason sighed as his cock gave a twitch of interest at the memory and the smell. He probably just needed to get laid. It had been a long time since he’d even had an interest, and even then, Talia had been little better than a one night stand, and that hadn’t ever really been Jason’s personal scene. Even if he was lonely and horny. 

Sue him, he enjoyed dating, he just hadn’t really been able to do a lot of it. Between living on the street on his own, becoming Bruce’s ward and performing his duties as Robin at night, and then dying and coming back. Dating hadn’t been a high priority. 

His libido was telling him how much it objected to this trend, that was all, he was sure. Finding teenagers hot wasn’t going to start becoming his thing. 

(Even if Tim wasn’t just a teenager, and he always looked really good in Jason’s hand-me-downs.)

“So unprofessional tossed messy or left in a hurry messy?” Barbara asked.

“Could go either way, really,” Jason admitted and took a few photos of the scene with his mask as he continued poking around. They went directly to her computer, so he waited for her to look at them as he kept looking for clues. 

He pulled open the paneled doors that tucked the closet away, getting a look inside. “Some empty wire hangers in the closet.” He took more pictures for Babs in case he missed something.

“Missing clothes.”

“No computer, but there’s a phone on the dresser.” 

He could tell how much this observation disturbed her by her voice. “Sounds more and more like he left.”

Despite not being the type to just up and leave, but Jason decided not to say that out loud. It wasn’t Barbara’s fault that Tim left, if he had. He went back to look at the bureau, which had one of the drawers left open, and he peeked inside. 

He blushed and stifled a whimper, trying to get his hormones to calm down.

Yeah, he definitely needed to get laid. 

“Pictures…” Barbara murmured over the comm. 

Jason decided not to take any pictures of Tim’s secret stash of toys, lube, and condoms. Babs didn’t need to see any of that. “Hm?”

“Tim likes pictures but I don't see any.”

“Um.” Getting his wits about him again, Jason looked around the room one more time. “Nope, no pictures. Mom used to keep hers in the closet…” 

He returned to the closet, thinking some distance between the drawer and himself might help. 

“Maybe…” Babs didn’t sound too confident about his idea.

Jason looked anyway, and found some boxes tucked away in the back. They didn’t have a layer of dust on them, like some of the other items, so they must have been placed there recently. He opened the lids and let out a victorious noise. “Here we go.” 

He took some more pictures to that Babs could see the contents. 

“Looks like he boxed them up,” Jason suggested after she got confirmation that she was looking at them. “Some empty picture frames, albums.” He pulled one of them out to flip through the pages and was only a little surprised to find newspaper clippings and photos, which he hadn’t known existed, of Dick, Bruce, Babs, and himself. All of them from a long time ago. Another album was different; it held pictures of Tim and some other caped kids. 

Barbara suddenly sighed in his ear, a frustrated sound. “Bird emergency. Back in a minute, Jase.” 

The line clicked off. Jason placed the albums back in the box for the moment, a blush creeping along his face as he returned to the drawer to get a better look. There was a small box of non-latex condoms with a few missing, two different tubes of lube (one scented), and a long black case. Inside the case, he found a decently sized dildo.

Jason’s face grew warmer. He imagined Tim taking this in hand, lubing it up and pushing it into his tight body, writhing on the bed just behind him. He fingered the dildo and, thinking of the missing condoms, he felt jealousy and self-loathing churning in his stomach. 

He shouldn’t even be imagining it. Doing so was just torturing himself. Wherever Tim was, whichever lucky son of a bitch he was with, it was way better than anything Jason could have with him. The kid deserved way better than the dude who had tried to kill him three times. 

Jason closed the box and put the dildo back into the drawer, trying to make everything inside look the same as before he started poking around in it. 

The line clicked back on. “Anything new?” Barbara asked.

Jason flushed, guiltily this time. “Maybe. Do you, uh. Do you know how sexually active he is?”

“Jason?” she prodded, sounding confused by his question.

“I found a drawer,” he admitted, face still red and glad she was back in Gotham, so she couldn’t see. He kinda wondered why she didn’t have cameras in the cottage too, but assumed that Tim must have been good at removing any observation equipment. “Lube, a dildo, a box with some condoms missing…”

“You think he ran off with someone?” she asked, her voice doubtful again.

“It’s possible,” he told her defensively, still inexplicably jealous of whoever Tim had run off with.

“Unlikely,” Barbara objected immediately. 

He swallowed thickly, willing the jealousy to get lost. He had to focus on the missing Robin. Taking a deep breath, Jason tried to calm down. He wasn’t going to be punching the current task, and detective work was only a skill he’d begun to use more recently. “Not even someone that's not a cape? That he would keep secret to protect them?”

“Tim's careful, I know all the people he's dated. He let me know so I could keep an eye on them in case someone tried to use them as leverage. All present and accounted for.”

“Oh.” That confirmed to Jason, at least, that Tim must have run off with some lucky asshole that Jason wanted to beat the face in of, regardless of whether they were hurting Tim or not.

He should probably mention this to Leslie at some point, despite how embarrassing it would be if he admitted who he was currently feeling jealous because of. It was starting to involve his anger issues though, and that was part of what Leslie was helping him work through.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. He wasn't going to be punching faces in of anyone’s boyfriends, either past or present. 

Unless they had it coming. 

“So... Names? I can go talk to them too. “

Babs sounded suspicious at this, but she didn’t comment on it. “There are four. Only two he was sexually active with. Only one he's had contact with recently, and I'm positive they haven't run off together.”

“It's okay, Babs, I believe you,” Jason assured. “But they might know something we don't. Especially the recent contact.”

“Mm, Sebastian Ives, goes by Ives.” She still didn’t sound like she was buying it. “They went to school together.”

Jason nodded to himself, filing the information away mentally. “And they were sexually active?” he made himself ask.

“I'm fairly sure he's who Tim bought the condoms for. Ives had cancer. They were celebrating his six months cancer free, and the relationship ended about five to six months ago.”

Jason frowned but tried to stay focused on what she was telling him. So they could have been together for anywhere between six months to a year, and Ives having been sick meant that the break up might have been filled with a lot of drama and anger. Especially if they had been friends before getting together, it just meant they had more information to use against one another. He felt exhausted just imagining it, but he’d begun this, he had to finish it. 

He also had stop feeling jealous. It was absurd anyway; not only was he not good enough for the kid, but he hardly knew Tim. It made no sense. 

“Okay. I'll go talk to Ives this afternoon.” 

“Other exes include: Ariana Dzerchenko, family with the Russian mob. She's in WitSec. Stephanie Brown, formerly known as Spoiler, currently my Batgirl, hasn't seen him. Zoanna Wilkins, in college, she's attended every class since Tim disappeared.”

“Fine, I’ll focus on Ives for now,” he told her, a little amused that Tim had also dated a Batgirl, just like Dick. (Though in Dick’s case, he owed his big brother a punch in the face for breaking Barbara’s heart.) Amused but still mostly jealous of all four exes. 

Which was ridiculous. Jason realized that.

“Alright, address incoming. Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Jason answered, remembering something else because of her question. “Some of the pictures were of us. You, Bruce, Dick when he was a little kid, me before I died…”

“Why would he choose to leave those?” Barbara wondered, her disturbed tone letting him know the question was rhetorical. 

“You knew about them?” he asked, his question not at all rhetorical, as he felt a combination and surprise and a little bit suspicious. Tim had pictures of them from years ago, how could he have possibly gotten them?

“He told Dick.”

“Who gave them to him? Where’d they come from?”

Her tone shifted briefly to reflect her amusement. “Relax, he took them himself.”

Jason frowned in the direction of the boxes, remembering that Tim was only seventeen. “Babs, he would have been a _baby_ when those were taken.”

“Feeling protective already?”

“I’m not heartless,” he shot back mildly. “There's also pictures of the Titans and some other kids. If he did leave of his own volition, maybe he just didn't want the reminder. Or he'll be back for them.”

“Maybe, I’ll keep an eye on it.”

“Sure. For now, I’ll just put them back in the closet,” he said as he began pushing them back inside, closing the closet doors when he finished. 

Then, when he was done, he went back to the drawer and grabbed the flavored lubricant tube, stuffing it into his jacket. 

He tried not to think too much about why he was doing it. He was looking for the Tim, after all, so Tim could spare him one until he found him. 

After a minute, he left the condoms, deciding he would just get some of those at the pharmacy. He wasn’t _that_ much of a thief anymore. 

Jason didn’t really want to delve too deeply for the real reason why he wanted the lube. 

His phone beeped when he was finished, alerting him to a text from Barbara that contained the address of Sebastian Ives. After glancing at it, he proceeding out of Tim’s room and to the stairs. 

“Alright, I'm gonna go see this Ives guy. Before I get the urge to clean Tim's room.”

“When you don't even clean your own?”

“Mine's clean. Kinda.”

“Sure it is.”

“It’s orderly chaos,” Jason objected at her playful tone, “I know where everything is.”

“I'll believe it when I see it.”

Meaning she had seen him searching for things in the morning and was judging him so hard on it. Despite the searching usually happening before he had his first cup of coffee. 

“Yeah, well--” Before he could correct her assumptions, however, he was knocked backwards unsuspectingly, falling and his back landing hard on the stairs. When he became aware again of something besides the pain, there was katana tip under his chin. 

The katana belonged to a tiny version of Bruce Wayne standing over him.

“Todd.”

Jason was tense underneath Damian. He really didn’t want to fight the kid, but he would if he had to. “Well, if it isn’t the littlest Robin.”

“Thief,” Damian shot back coldly. “Murderer.” 

“Is that all you got?” Jason shot back. “I’ve been called far worse things, kiddo.”

Damian ignored the sassing, not that it was anywhere near his best. “You are here. Why?”

“Drake disappeared,” Jason answered honestly. “Oracle sent me to look for some clues to figure out why.” 

“Get up,” the kid grunted, stepping back just a little, the tip of his sword still close enough to strike somewhere lethal. 

Jason sighed, rising to his feet slowly. He really wasn’t in the mood for this. “Thanks ever so.”

The sword was whipped around, the movement fast and precise, and when it was pressed against his back, he had no doubt that the kid was also most assuredly Talia’s son. 

“Walk.”

Jason sighed again. “I really don't have time for this, junior.”

“Walk!” the kid barked, poking him him in the back.

Holding in another sigh, Jason obeyed, moving down the stairs and allowing the kid to take him out of Tim’s cottage, across the lawn, and into the manor home that he hadn’t stepped foot in since he left that fateful day for Ethiopia. Even the night that Tim brought him home after getting him out of jail, he'd only been in the cave. He hadn't gone upstairs.

Stepping inside, he almost tripped over his own large feet, his senses immediately assaulted with familiar smells and sounds. He felt both sick and sad, both emotions churning around in his stomach, and it was difficult to breathe. 

Then Alfred and Dick walked into the room, and at the sight of the old butler, it just got harder to make himself keep breathing. 

“Hey,” he choked out.

“Master Jason,” Alfred greeted, as his eyes got a little less wide in surprise. 

At least he didn’t look too freaked, Jason tried to assure himself, but the damage was done. He’d been avoiding this meeting, knowingly, for years; seeing Alfred only cemented how much he had fucked up. No matter what he did now, how he tried to do good, he could never apologise to Alfred. Ever. No apology could ever mean anything. 

He was so not ready for this. He should have kicked Damian’s tiny ass and ran. 

“Jase,” Dick said.

Dick was at least easier to stomach. He’d seen him a few times since his return and, while he’d spoiled those meetings too, it didn’t hurt to see his brother as much. 

His cleared his throat. “S’up, Dick.”

“Master Damian,” Alfred broke in before Dick could respond to his oh-so-stellar greeting, “we do not generally hold family members at weapon point.”

“He broke into Drake’s cottage,” Damian informed them.

Of course the kid hadn’t believed him. Jason rolled his eyes, looking again just in time to see Alfred glance at him. 

“Be that as it may, please put your sword away.”

Damian grumbled darkly behind him but obeyed, the blade lowering to the floor while he continued to glare at Jason.

Jason glared right back at him, but his question was directed to the other two. “Can I explain why before you throw me in jail?”

“Of course, Master Jason,” Alfred responded smoothly. 

Holding in another sigh, frustrated, Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “Babs sent me because Tim's disappeared.”

A peculiarly pained expression passed over Dick’s face, and a second later Jason realized it was guilt. “Tim’s an adult.” 

Jason eyed him, wondering what Dick had to feel guilty for, but assuming it had to do with Tim. “Except it looks like he left quickly, of his own volition, without telling anyone. You're not even a little concerned?”

“He’s probably fine.” 

“Try calling him.” Jason realized daring him wouldn’t solve anything; Dick was the good son, the better son, and had nothing to prove to anyone. But he was irritated and frustrated, still a little upset at having to confront Alfred before he was ready, and he still had to go visit Tim’s ex. “Babs is really worried. He's not answering emails, he left his _things_. Car, bike, equipment… Everything but some clothes and his toothbrush.”

“He’s probably just spending time with his boyfriend,” Dick tried to object. 

“Really?” Jason demanded, his temper rising. “The same boyfriend he broke up with six months ago?”

Dick’s eyes widened almost comically. “What?”

Jason nodded angrily, then winced as he noticed lines of concern growing over Alfred’s face and softened just a little of his tone. “I’m going now to confirm and see if he has any other information, but as far as Babs can tell, Tim Drake has _disappeared._ And as far as _I_ can tell, it's on purpose and he didn't want anyone to know where he went. Why is that, Dick?” he asked, becoming suspicious about what all went on between Dick and Tim. 

His elder brother shrugged, his eyes going downcast, staring down at the polished floor beneath them rather than Jason’s face.

Jason glanced at Alfred, to see that the older man was giving Dick a look that should have had him squirming if he bothered to look up. 

“I need to get on that,” Jason said to the aged butler. “Faster I talk to the kid, faster we might be able to figure out what happened to him.”

“Very well,” said Alfred. “You will tell us what you find, won't you, Master Jason?”

Jason nodded, a little surprised. Surely Alfred didn’t want him personally contacting them again. “Sure, if you want. Babs could let you know too, if you'd rather.”

“I believe we'd prefer you,” the butler said in that tone that brooked no argument. “Here, if you don't mind.”

Jason nodded again, feeling dumb, his surprise only increasing. Alfred not only giving him permission to return, but practically ordering him to? “Uh, okay. Sure, I will.”

Alfred nodded in what might have been an approving manner. “Very good, sir.”

Jason nodded and left, surprised when no one came chasing after him. He slipped through the gate and out to where he left his pickup, removed his mask, and drove down the road, heading for the ‘burbs. 

-

The suburbs were the polar opposite of where he’d grown up (and where he had chosen to return, the cruel irony wasn’t lost on him. At least now as a man, it was his choice to be there.) It was hard to believe that these rows of quaint little houses out of a Hollywood movie were anywhere near Gotham. The ‘burbs were in the same county as half of Gotham, but with the Gotham River separating Bristol from the city. People whose families made higher wages often lived there, while driving over the bridge every day to work in the city. 

Like the Waynes. 

But this neighborhood wasn’t quite like the street that the Manor set on either. This was more where the middle class lived who could afford just enough to keep their families out of the meaner, grimier downtown Gotham. 

Jason envied this Ives guy a little more. He seemed to have a good life, apart from the cancer, which according to Babs, was still in remission. He lived at home with his parents while he attended college, not unusual these days because of the rising costs of living, and Ives probably had a growing debt of student loans. 

Not to mention that he might now not be able to get a job in the field he was degreeing in, despite having been practically guaranteed one when he started. Such was the current economy. (If Jason had known about this when he woke up, he probably would've gone after the banks instead of the mobs in Gotham.)

Even so, Jason still envied him. He would’ve liked to have those simpler problems. (Or if not simpler, just a different level of complicated than his own were.) 

When the door was answered, after his first round of knocking, Jason came face to face with Sebastian Ives. 

He was a tall kid, though not quite as tall as Jason, with a lanky frame, glasses perched on his nose, and disheveled strawberry blond hair. 

(He wondered absently if Tim liked blondes and if he would be at all partial to redheads. Then quickly banished this thought from his mind because _no_ , he was not going to become that fixated on a teenage boy. Even if Tim was not an ordinary teenage boy.) 

Ives eyed him up and down. “Hello?”

Jason flashed a fake badge that Babs had hooked him up with and tried not to feel too much like he’d suddenly stepped into a teen drama. “Officer Todd.” He could have given a fake name but it’s what was on the badge anyway. Also, the partial truth was easier to remember than a complete lie. “I'd like to ask you a few questions about Tim Drake.”

Ives’ eyes narrowed. “Why?” he demanded, tone suspicious.

“A friend of his, Barbara Gordon, reported him missing. We're talking to anyone who may have had contact with him recently.” Again, it was not a complete lie, Barbara had been the one to get this search rolling. 

Ives’ suspicious look immediately softened into worry. Jason thought he saw what Tim liked about the guy, he was expressive and had an honest face. 

“Oh, man. I'm sorry, I haven't seen him recently.”

Jason nodded and tried to gentle his tone while still sounding professional. Or as professional as a GCPD officer could sound. “That's fine. I just need to ask a few questions. The littlest thing might help us.”

Ives shifted on his feet awkwardly, but he held the door open wide enough for Jason to step through. “Alright. Would you like to come in?”

“Thanks,” Jason said as he stepped inside, waiting for the door to close. “Your parents home?” He hadn’t seen a car in the parking lot, but he thought it would be better to ask.

“My mom's upstairs. Dad's at work.”

Jason nodded and lowered his voice, so that it wouldn’t carry too much upstairs. “I'm aware of your friendship with Mr. Drake, but I don't want to out you to your parents if they don't know…” This would have been more awkward if it was the first time he’d ever had this conversation with someone. 

Lately, however, he’d gotten plenty of opportunities for it. 

It was still a little awkward though.

“‘Friendship,’” Ives echoed with amusement, not bothering to lower his own voice. “God, that's so old fashioned. No, it's cool, my parents know that Tim and I dated and that it ended amicably.”

Jason grinned back despite his jealousy. It was hard to hate Ives for it, and he thought he found another reason Tim liked the guy--his smile was contagious. “Sorry, I have to deal with it a lot, sadly. Just wanted to be sure.”

“It's cool, I imagine you've talked to a lot of people who appreciated the consideration.”

“I try.” He just wasn’t sure he succeeded all the time. It was still hard sometimes to figure out the best way to help someone. He fumbled a lot and ended up calling Leslie or Barbara. Even Sasha a few times, though she had about as much experience helping people as he did.

He followed Ives to the kitchen and leaned his hip against the little island, watching the redhead carefully. “When was the last time you spoke to Tim?”

“Um... two months ago? He's been busy but we had coffee at the place in the WE building. He’s a bit of a coffee addict, yanno?”

Jason pretended to make note of this on a small pad, inwardly encouraged. Barbara hadn’t known anything about Tim spending time with Ives as late as two months ago, though nothing too much could have happened in WE’s little coffee shop. 

“That’s not surprising, considering how busy he is.” And Ives didn’t even know about the Bat stuff. Tim kept himself busy in his public life too, dealing with the business side of WE. “Did he mention any problems?”

Ives shrugged as a he retrieved two cans of Zesti from the refrigerator. “Tim wasn't the type to complain. _Isn’t_ ,” he corrected himself quickly, freckled face turning a little pink, eyes darting down to his soda can. “Sorry, I’ve never--done this before. He just disappeared?”

“I can’t share too much info about the case,” Jason said, trying to maintain his professional cop persona, “but yeah. There weren’t signs of a kidnapping and no one’s made any ransom demands. Can you think of any problems he had that he wouldn't talk about?”

Ives’ green eyes darted back up to Jason’s. Maybe he wasn’t a Bat, but there was a strength and intelligence of his own there. “Well, keeping in mind that this is the opinion of a guy who broke up with him six months ago…” Jason nodded at him encouragingly. “He works too hard, his older brother is kind of a jerk, his younger brother is a sociopath, his dad is too busy cavorting with hot young things to pay any attention, he has too much on his plate, he's carrying a torch for a guy who doesn't know he's alive, and he had to have his spleen removed.”

Ives paused to catch his breath from the long rant and take a swallow of Zesti. Jason nodded thoughtfully at the information, seeing the ‘older brother is kind of a jerk’ as confirmation about what he had begun to suspect at the manor. Something must have gone on between Dick and Tim, something that Tim had gotten the short end of the stick for. It left their relationship strained enough that, combined with Damian’s attitude, kept Tim from the manor. The move to the cottage house had been fairly recent, even if the refurbishing had happened awhile ago.

So things had maybe started to improve, but were still tense? It had been Damian, after all, who had rushed to the carriage house when he noticed Jason’s intrusion. So even if they hadn’t noticed that Tim was missing, Damian worried enough to rush to his aide, but Dick hadn’t noticed. 

It all lined up pretty well with his theory that Tim had decided to leave on his own.

“But I take it you know something about that?” Ives asked, still watching him.

Kid was also pretty sharp. Jason wondered if Tim had ever been tempted to ask Ives to join the family. One of his other exes had been, though from what he understood, that had more to do with Bruce than with what Tim had wanted. “Some of it. Carrying a torch for some other guy is new.” Very new. He was trying not to think too much about it other than it hadn’t been part of his intell. “Ms. Gordon only mentioned you and three ex girlfriends.”

“I don’t think it’s something he shared with everybody?” Ives shrugged again. “As far as I know he and the other guy never got together. All I know is that he was older and apparently didn't know Tim was alive.”

Jason felt a little twinge of sympathy for Tim. “Was that a problem when you were together?”

“Not really.” The blond smiled. “We all have silly crushes that we never act on.”

“That’s true, I guess.” He didn’t really get crushes anymore, though he’d had an embarrassing one on Donna Troy once upon a time. He refused to accept that his attraction to Tim was a crush. “So you weren't unhappy together.”

Ives leaned back against the counter, legs folding at the ankles. “I know this is probably hard to believe but it's true. We were fine right up until the end and we parted amicably.”

Jason nodded though it was a little hard to believe, and just made him more envious that Ives had gotten to be with Tim at all. Even if that was apparently over now and Tim wasn’t secretly hiding upstairs in Ives’ bedroom. He resisted the urge to run up there and find out. 

“I was the one who ended it, I guess you'd say,” Ives went on. “Believe me, I felt like a jerk afterwards. Tim was the nicest guy you could ask for when I was going through treatment.”

Jason held in a frown. He knew how nice Tim was. Because Dick had taken his sweet ass time putting on the Batman suit after Bruce ‘died,’ Tim had donned a tiny version of his own, tracked down Jason’s current hideout, and tried to stop him _without_ Dick’s help.

And Jason had nearly killed him, but he was in a state of mind now where he not only felt guilty about that, but also knew that Tim had done the right thing. No matter how much Gotham needed a Batman, Jason’s way of doing it wasn’t right and he’d needed to be stopped.

“But?” he pressed. 

Ives lightly tapped on the soda can in his hand, shrugging one slender shoulder. “We just wanted different things. Cancer gives you a different perspective on life, makes you think about the future. He wasn't ready for the kind of commitment I wanted. And I got tired of falling into bed with him on free nights and weekends, as fun as it was.”

The jealousy grew in the pit of his stomach as he immediately imagined the leather clad bird boy with the slender youth in front of him. Tangled limbs holding onto each other under the bedsheets. 

Tim’s lack of commitment wasn’t hard to understand, and it was on the tip of Jason’s tongue to defend him. Even if Tim had been tempted, as Jason might’ve been in his shoes, to tell Ives about what he did at night, that kind of information came with a price. It would make Ives a target, something that Bruce had drilled into his head time and again back in the day. 

Also, it was just really fucking hard to date when your days were taken up with school and your nights with fighting crime and psychopaths escaping from the mental institution. 

Ives’ eyes suddenly widened and he sat the soda can down on the counter, looking at Jason in awe. “Oh my god, you're him!”

Jason blinked. “Who, what?”

“You! You're the guy! Tim didn't tell me he was crushing on a _cop_.”

Jason felt his lips turn up at the corners in disbelief. “No way, can't be me. Tim hates me.” 

“Liar,” Ives shot back. “I _knew_ whoever it was had to be into him, Tim's way more irresistible than he realizes and super oblivious. Why didn't you ever go for it? Is it the cop thing?”

Jason shook his head, uncomfortable with the realization that he was that obvious. Ives had just met him and already figured him out, how was he going to keep his attraction to Tim a secret from anyone else? Barbara was going to take him off the case for sure when she found out. 

“I hurt him. It can't be me.”

There was so much that Ives didn’t know about. The three times he’d almost killed Tim personally, and the one time with Clayface that had been inadvertently him. Even if Jason convinced himself that two of those times, he’d never had any real intention to kill his replacement, there was still the third time when he thought he had and left Tim for dead.

Ives made a short _‘pfft’_ sound, waving his long fingered hand. “Please, if I didn't know better I'd think Tim was a masochist. Did you know one of his girlfriends threw a _brick_ at his head?”

Jason gaped a little. Again, the kid was giving him information he hadn’t been partial to before. “What?”

The teen nodded. “And what does he do? Dates her for six months and blames himself for their break-up.”

“He's... definitely unique.” He smiled sheepishly, not sure how a cop would really react in this case and just going with it. If the kid figured it out, so be it. “And a nice guy. Bailed me out of jail once when I didn't deserve it. We'd even gotten into a fight right before.”

Ives gave a low whistle. “Wow…”

Jason shook his head. “It was a pretty bad fight, but we had a worse one afterwards. He got hurt and his big brother had to bail him out. I… didn’t stick around.” That was putting it lightly. Dick had fought him and Jason fell to his own apparent death, as far as the Bats were concerned. But Jason did what he seemed to do best--kicked Death in the balls and came back.

But he couldn’t tell Ives this, so the kid would never understand how wrong his hypothesis was, even if the part about Jason’s attraction was right.

“Yeah, Tim’s like that,” Ives said. “Trust me, I’ve known him for years.”

But there was still so much Ives didn’t know about Tim and probably would never know. That thought made Jason feel guiltier for some reason. Maybe it was because, despite his envy, he kinda liked Ives already and just felt bad for continuing the lie. 

“Maybe. Still doubt it's me. It'll be someone like you who would treat him right.”

Ives raised a pale eyebrow, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Hate to point out the obvious but he didn't want someone like me.”

Jason rubbed his warm face, frustrated. “Okay, so neither of us are on his dance card, life sucks.”

Ives just grinned at him. “Sure, dude, whatever you say.”

He shook his head and attempted to regain his professional demeanor. He pulled a small card out of his jacket and held it out to Ives. “Call this number if you hear from him?”

The teen accepted the card. “Sure.”

“Thanks for the help. I'll let you know when I find him,” he promised and meant it. “And even if you don’t hear from him,” he offered belatedly, “if you just need someone to talk to…”

Ives gave him another one of those earnest smiles. “Thanks. Might just do that.” He showed him to the door, but grabbed Jason’s arm before he left. “You’re totally wrong, you know. I know I just met you and don’t know all of your issues, but you’re a nice guy too.”

Jason sighed but didn’t shake him off. “I’m trying. I’ve got a lot to make up for. Wasn’t always this nice.”

“There are a lot of guys in the world that don’t make up for not _being nice_ ,” Ives returned. “Even if Tim doesn’t know it right now, he will when you find him.”

He wouldn’t be too sure about that, but rather than standing on Ives’ doorstep arguing with him all day, Jason took his leave and returned to where he’d parked his truck. 

He still had to inform Barbara that she’d been right about the Ives lead not going anywhere. Even though, weirdly, it felt like it had, somehow.

-

After a few more weeks, they started to run out of leads, and Ives had stopped asking if he found out anything when he called. (Which he did and Jason didn’t mind, even if it increased his guilt. The kid was pretty lonely, had been since before Tim’s disappearance, so Jason could take a few minutes out of his day to send Ives an email or talk to him on the phone every evening.) So while the case was still open, Jason had other work to do. While depending on Babs to help him keep up to date on finding Tim, he returned to patrolling the meanest streets in Gotham. 

He was currently perched above some crates, watching three men who were his current targets. All three were big and bulky, but Jason wasn’t easily intimidated by other people’s size. 

He was pretty big himself, after all.

One had gone outside briefly, and when he returned, he held a squirming bundle in his hand. 

“Hey boys, look what I found!” 

“That's a loud rat, bro,” said guy number two, derisively. 

Number three snorted. “It’s a cat, dumbass.”

“What are we gonna do with it then?”

“Figured it'd make a good snack,” number one told them with an unnerving grin.

Number two laughed. “Gross, bro.”

“Not for us.” Number one gestured toward the corner. “For them.”

In that dark corner, where the watch dogs were tied up, hungry whines emerged. Jason frowned deeper. He didn’t really go for allowing cruelty to go unpunished, and shifted closer. 

“Oh, sick, think they'll tear it apart?” number three asked as he moved.

The kitten yowling, clearly frightened, just made the dogs grow louder and seemingly more impatient for a light meal such as the little kitten was. 

“Let’s find out,” said number one, shaking the little cat as he carried it over to the barking and whining dogs. 

Jason shifted and closed the space between them, punching the guy square in the face, listening in satisfaction as his nose broke on contact. “Let’s not.”

He went down hard and dropped the kitten, which gave a tiny wail. Jason caught it up in a roll, before the dogs had time to get their snack, and disappeared behind the crates again just as the thugs were rising from their table and trying to figure out what was going on. 

Jason wrapped the kitten up in his jacket and set it up high somewhere he would have reasonable protection and leapt back into the fray as Numbers Two and Three came toward him. 

As he fought, he could hear the kitten mewing, sounding very lost and alone just like any kid living on the street, and it spurred him on to end the fight quickly. Perhaps he used a little more force than necessary, but he didn’t kill the dudes, which was still an improvement to how he used to work. Regardless, he could imagine what Babs would say to him later.

They were pretty much not in his league anyway, going down with relative ease, and he had time to tie them up before he heard the first sirens approaching.

He glanced at the dogs, but figured that the GCPD could handle them. There wasn’t a lot he could do for them anyway--most of the time when people starved dogs to use as guard dogs or illegal animal gambling, they couldn’t be rehabilitated. Jason followed up the first few times it happened, just to be sure the animal shelters really were doing what they could, and not just euthanizing them out of hand. 

Despite his fears, he found that the shelters had a good record and they really did try their best. He still felt bad for the dogs and for having not found them faster before their owners could abuse them.

So he ignored their barking and went to retrieve his jacket and the kitten, cradling and shivering bundle in his arms as he returned to his truck. 

He didn’t expect the kitten to take to flying too well, but luckily his truck wasn’t far away, and so got them out of the cold and into his vehicle as quickly as he could. 

“Hey, sweetling, it’s okay,” Jason murmured . “Let’s get you out of here.” 

The kitten yowled softly and curled into a ball in his lap, purring softly.

Jason felt his chest just melt at the sight and petted him lightly, hoping that it wasn’t badly hurt. He pressed his other hand to his ear, turning the comm back on. “Hey, Babs? All done here.”

“Any problems?”

“I saved a little damsel in distress.” Then, remembering gender normative rants he’d listened to lately, he pulled back the kitten tail to check, shushing the poor thing when it mewled in complaint. “Oops, no, not a damsel. What's the opposite of damsel?”

“If you mean a man then damsel is still correct. It means a young man or woman of noble birth.” 

“Huh. The more you know. I'm gonna start calling all the boys that I rescue 'damsels.'” He rubbed the kitten’s ears in apology and started the car, letting it warm up. 

“It's your black eyes.”

“Huh?” His eyes were blue. Sometimes green. It depended on his mood.

“Nevermind. So what about your damsel?”

“It's a little kitty. I hope he's okay.”

“Does he need a vet?”

“Hold on.” He pulled his mask off and turned on the overhead light, getting a better look at the kitten, which he didn’t seem to appreciate too much but didn’t fight him. This behavior struck him as strange for a stray cat, but maybe it just hadn’t had time to become feral. 

“He's got some tiny cuts on his paws and he keeps licking them. For puppies, that's not so good, not sure about cats.”

“Are the cuts on the pads?” 

“A little bit. I don't think they're bleeding anymore.”

“A vet would be best, pads will take the longest to heal and are the highest risk of infection.”

Jason glanced at the time on his dashboard as he pulled the shift stick out of park. “Is there even anybody open this late? Or, early, I guess.”

“Yes.” She sent him a text with the information, which he checked quickly before pulling out onto the road. “Tell them Barbara sent you.”

“Sure thing. Talk to you soon. Maybe I'll bring the little guy to see you.”

“I look forward to it,” she laughed softly before cutting the line.

The kitten stayed curled up in his lap, enfolded in the jacket. Almost as soon as he picked up speed, however, was when the kitten started to cry, his little head poking around and looking around with tiny, wide eyes that Jason could see when he glanced down, reflecting in the passing street lamps.

“Sorry, sorry, hey,” Jason spoke softly, soothing, not sure what else to do for him, “it's gonna be okay, buddy.”

The kitten just kept crying with tiny little mewls, and began to squirm as if trying to get out of his lap. Jason drove with his right hand on the wheel, holding the kitten in place with the other. He had a lot of crap in his car and didn’t want the little guy accidentally hurting himself on a weapon or getting trapped in an old fast food bag. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry…”

No matter what he said, the kitten just kept up his yowling up until the second Jason carried him out of the truck. Then he finally went quiet again. 

“Hey, it’s okay, buddy,” he assured, carrying the cat into the emergency vet clinic. While the parking lot was deserted apart from him and the kitty, the lights inside were on and bright against the darkness.

He kept up the reassuring nonsense, feeling bad for him, until they were safely inside and the girl behind the desk looked up from whatever she was working on. 

“Yes?”

Jason almost couldn’t remember what he was supposed to say. It had been another long night. “Uh, Barbara sent me? My cat's hurt.”

“Oh.” She’d grabbed hold of a sheet for him to fill out, but as soon as he was finished, she sat it back down. “Follow me.”

“Thanks,” Jason said, following the young woman down the hall to the back. 

“You're lucky it's mostly quiet tonight. Just watching one dog with a severe flea problem.”

Jason nodded, feeling pretty dumb. This was another peek at a world he just didn’t belong in, but this wasn’t about him--it was about the kitten in his arms.

She lead him into an empty examining room. “You can keep your jacket on the table. Cats don't like the cold surface.”

Jason nodded and sat his bundle down on the examining table. He wondered if she would leave to get the vet, but as she stayed, assumed that the staff must have been mostly let go for the evening since it was so ‘quiet.’ Since he hadn’t been to see a veterinarian before, he wasn’t sure. 

She tried to cajole the kitten out of the folds of his jacket, but he was very unhappy and made tiny little squeaky sounds as he squirmed while she prodded. 

She had to pause momentarily and just petted the kitten until he began to relax and purr softly.

“Can I look at your paws, pretty boy?” she asked soothingly as she tried again. The kitten was still unhappy but he squirmed a little less on the second round. 

Jason watched, melting some more. The little guy really was adorable. He had to resist cooing when he’d never wanted to coo at anything in his life. “How is he?”

“Mostly okay, I think. He’s a little skinny, but not dangerously malnourished.” She tugged gently on the folds of the kitten’s skin and fur. “See how the skin goes back into place? If he were dehydrated, it would be slower. So we won’t have to keep him overnight for observation. I’ll just give him something for those cuts.”

Jason nodded and supposed the kitten could have been an orphan only recently. He watched as the woman cooed at the adorable ball of fur, reaching out to pet him himself when it didn’t seem like he’d been in her way. 

“He's shaking a little,” Jason nodded, continuing to pet lightly along his bony spine. “Poor kid, he's had a rough night. He was almost doggy chow.”

“Aw, who would do that to a sweet boy like you?” He hoped that was rhetorical because neither of them were going to tell her. Even if she was vetted by The Oracle. 

“I don’t suppose you got any food on hand?” He guessed kittens had their own food, but he wasn’t sure what he would get, and he was pretty sure the drug store didn’t have a huge selection. Besides, the stuff that a vet would have was probably better.

She nodded. “We have new kitten kits that we give out to people. It has samples of kitten food, flea medicine, little catnip mouse, etcetera.”

Jason was relieved to hear that. “Cool, okay. I'll take one.” He didn’t care about the cost, though he was on a little budget which made him feel like a real fucking adult. But the kitten needed it and that’s what mattered. “He and I have been through a little adventure tonight. It'd probably break my heart to leave him somewhere.”

She seemed pleased by his words, her tired eyes taking on a little life as she nodded. Then she allowed him to keep petting the kitten as she applied glue to the cuts on his paws. “We'll give him some deworming meds as well,” she added. 

Jason nodded his okay, but he began to worry about the price a little more. Food and toys were one thing, but medicine was definitely going to be pricey. His own insurance plan was mostly to show up at Leslie’s office and hope she wouldn’t kick him out to bleed on the street. 

He held his new little friend as the girl gave him a syringe filled with, what she said was, salmon flavored paste. She kept him alerted to what she was doing as she worked, which was nice, because otherwise he might get suspicious and bend her arm backwards to protect the kitten.

Jason thought that Babs might object to that.

When she finished, she settled the kitten back into the folds of Jason’s jacket. “He'll be ready for vaccinations and to be neutered in about a month. You can bring him back here or we can recommend some other vets.”

“Here's close to where I live, so we'll see.” He wouldn’t know where else to go anyway. “Thanks.” The picked the kitten back up, still cradling him in his jacket, and noticed how the little guy’s eyes were already blinking closed, his countenance much more relaxed than earlier.

He guessed it was the meds making him sleepy.

Before he could walk out, she opened a drawer and pulled out the kit wrapped in a large bag. The items she had promised were visible in the clear plastic. He took hold of it as well, the cat safely on top of the load after he did some juggling.

“That should hold you over,” she said, leading him back to the front.

“Great.” He walked carefully in case the kitten made a run for it, but for now he seemed content to sit and enjoy the ride. “What do I owe you?”

“Oh, it's all been taken care of.”

“Huh?”

“Ms. Gordon left instructions for us to put it on her account.”

“Oh.” Hence why Babs had said to mention her name, he guessed belatedly, and felt a little foolish. “Thanks.” 

She smiled. “No problem. You should probably get that cutie home.”

Jason smiled down at him in time to see him given the cutest little yawn, the tip of his pink tongue curling until it was back in his mouth. “Yup. Let’s go home, buddy,” he said to him, walking outside to his truck carefully. 

He managed to keep his armful from falling as he dug his keys back out and unlocked the door, getting them back inside the relative warmth of the truck. Once he got the motor started and the air back on, it improved considerably, and he got them back on the road. 

Jason rubbed his brown tipped ear as he drove with one hand again, but this time the kitten didn’t try to squirm out of his lap, nor did he cry. He thought it was just the drugs but hoped he’d get more used to driving as time went on.

He still wasn’t sure of the logistics of owning a cat or how he’d accomplish it with his schedule. Kittens probably required more time than cats, while he often slept during the day and worked at night, either patrolling Crime Alley on his own or working for Barbara. 

He’d make it work, however. Letting his new friend go to someone else wasn’t something he was yet willing to do. Not unless he didn’t have a choice, but he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. 

-

After parking the truck in front of his building and locking it up, he carefully carried his armload up the steps to his floor. There was an old elevator but it looked like it had been out of order for some time; he hadn’t bothered to ask the landlord about it when he moved in. 

The kitten didn’t make so much as a tiny peep, but he did look around himself as they moved through the building, but he didn’t try to squirm around until Jason had sat him down on the couch. Still wrapped up in his jacket, the kitten buried itself further in the folds of leather, eyes wide as it took in Jason’s apartment.

“I know it’s not much, Jason told him, “but it’s ours. Hold on a sec, I’ll get us something to eat.”

He found a small saucer to put the kitten food in, and heated up some leftover tacos for himself. He took both with him back to the couch and sat down, trying to coax the kitten out to eat his food. The little guy wasn’t having any of it though, and Jason wasn’t sure what to do. He was tempted to call Babs or the clinic when his phone rang. 

“Crap,” he hissed, rising to get it. He was just barely twenty years old (or nineteen still, as he couldn’t count the time he spent dead), technically not old enough to fucking drink, and already had aches and pains in his body caused by his activities. 

His phone was back in his bedroom, charging. He pulled the charge cord out, glanced at the caller ID, and answered. “Hey Sash. How's life with the Titans?”

“Ugh,” was her return greeting. “I want Tim back, did you find him yet?”

His mood, which had risen when he saw that his protege was the one calling him, dropped a little bit more. “Still working on it. But I found someone else. He's tiny and furry and needed my help.”

“Jase, I hate to have to be the one to tell you this but that thing between your legs is called your penis and it's always been there.”

It took Jason a minute to realize where she could’ve gotten that, and then groaned. In his defense, he was tired and not as witty as Sasha. “A kitten. I found a kitten, who is not a euphemism for my penis, but an actual kitten, and I've pretty much adopted him because he's adorable.”

“Aww, what does he look like?” she asked.

“ Tiny, fuzzy, white, with a brown spot on one side of his face like a pirate eye patch. And…” He took the phone with him to the doorway so that he could look in on his new roommate. “And he's eating my tacos.”

“I don't think cats are supposed to eat Mexican,” Sasha informed him, sounding like she found his words funny again.

“He has cat food,” he defended, going back to the couch to take the tacos away. “No, buddy, no human food. We've gotta get you eating the good stuff now.”

The kitten squeaked in complaint, but Jason’s closeness had him backing off, crouching down against the couch cushions. 

Sasha giggled in his ear. “Aww.”

Jason grinned at the sound and at his new little friend. “He’s really adorable.”

“I can't get away yet, these guys are hopeless. Send me pictures?”

He sighed, amused. “Alright, but only for my favorite sidekick.”

“I'm your only sidekick, unless Taco Cat is taking over my spot.”

“Taco Cat?” He grabbed hold of the kitten before he could hide back in the jacket, taking a picture of his face smeared with taco sauce. He sent it in a text straight to Sasha, who giggled some more.

“Awww, he’s a cutie. Well, Mexican Food Cat doesn't have the same ring to it.”

Jason snickered as he saw the amusement as well. “I guess Taco Cat is as good as anything.” In a way, he supposed, it was like Taco had named himself. 

“Cool.” Sasha made a wispy breathing sound as she yawned into the phone. “It's late, I'll let you go. Just wanted to ask about Tim when no one with super hearing was awake.”

The redhead winced at the reminder that they weren’t the only ones wondering where Tim Drake was. “Kon and Bart still hovering?”

“Not as bad as Wondergirl.”

Meaning yes, they were all still hovering, because not only had Sasha worked with Tim for a few weekends prior to the boy’s disappearance, but they knew she’d been a little involved in the search. (Only as much as Jason was involved and had gotten her help a few times in the investigation, but he hoped she hadn’t told them ‘Red Hood’ was involved. Perhaps he needed to go by a new alias…)

Sasha tended to refer to them, in her conversations with Jason, as the ‘three musketeers who really miss D’Artagnan.’ 

Which Jason only understood because he half remembered reading Dumas when he was a kid, living (such as it was) in an abandoned apartment with some stolen records and old paperbacks to read. Back then, he stole just to survive, and didn’t exactly have a television or computer to occupy himself with. 

But he still knew how to read. No matter how bad it got in that time, living on his own, before Bruce had caught him coming back to steal more tires off the Batmobile. Nobody could ever take that from him. 

“They’re worried,” he reminded her absently. “It’s… sweet.”

Her tongue clucked in a disapproving sound he was well familiar with by now. “It's fine, Jase, you'll find him.”

Sometimes it seemed like Sasha was the elder in their group.

A sigh escaped him, disgusted with himself and his inability to do better. “I've tried! He's not _anywhere!_ ”

Taco’s ears lowered and Jason cuddled him close to his chest, guiltily.

“Sorry, just. He’s not anywhere. He doesn’t _want_ to be found, so he’s not going to be.”

It was a hard truth that he wasn’t sure how to accept himself, let alone how he would Tim’s friends and family. 

“Because he's a Bat and you're all super sneaky,” Sasha responded soothingly. 

“Damn, Replacement must have played too much hide and seek as a kid,” Jason grumbled, frustrated more with the current circumstance than with Tim himself. Part of him, that part that wasn’t really angry that is, admired his ‘replacement’s’ skills. He wished he hadn’t been so cruel to him before asking Tim to be his Robin. 

A lot of things would have been much simpler if Jason hadn’t eventually come out of the Lazarus Pit to become such a raving asshole. But he couldn’t change the past.

Well technically he probably go find some method of time travel, but if Ray Palmer’s theories on alternative universes were correct, Jason would likely not change a thing and just send himself hurtling down another alternate universe. He wouldn’t even know it when it happened, either, because everything would be the same but completely changed forever. 

It gave him a headache just thinking about it, so while trying to redeem himself was harder, it was a lot less confusing. 

Jason rubbed Taco’s tiny ears with his thumb, still holding him. “I'm running out of places to look, Sash.” There were a few options left. For instance, if he could convince Roy, they start systematically taking down Ra’s al Ghul’s bases, in the chance that the old pervert had Tim stashed in one of them. 

It had been an idea he’d toyed with since Barbara informed him of Ra’s’ weird obsession with the kid. 

“I know, it’s hard,” Sasha spoke gently, obviously trying to keep him optimistic. “But you've gotta keep believing.”

Jason tried to force himself to sound cheerful, for her sake. It was hard, he didn’t think he sounded very convincing, because he lacked the confidence in his heart. “I believe I'm going to smack replacement upside the head when I find him. And then I'm gonna get him to give me evasion lessons because he is kicking my ass at it.”

She giggled, sounding amused again. “Or, you know, you can just kiss the boy.”

He groaned. “Don't tell me they've been making you watch Disney movies.” Not that there was anything wrong was Disney movies, but he quietly contemplated offering to let Sasha hide with him on the weekends if it was becoming too much for her. 

She didn’t sound like she needed it though. “Not as many as you'd think. Apparently Tim was a secret Disney addict.”

Jason was surprised into a laugh. He tried to picture the kid he’d met a few times, that oh so serious scowl on Tim’s pretty face (usually covered with a domino or cowl), watching goofy and happy Disney movies. As hard it was to believe, it was also weirdly appealing. 

“Really? Have you been holding out on me, Sash? We’re talking about the same Tim Drake, right?”

“Yeah. I only found out yesterday when I tried to put on Nemo.”

He frowned, absently petting Taco, who was still curled up in his hand and partly against his chest, seemingly listening to the conversation. Petting him was strangely soothing.

“Why? What happened?”

“Bart got depressed, Conner left the room, and Cassie pulled me aside to explain.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” was all he could think to say.

“It’s okay, she wasn’t pissed or anything. But hey, maybe it'll help?” 

“What? The fact that he loves Disney movies?”

“Yeah. Maybe he kept his amazon prime account or something.”

“Hmph, guess it's worth a shot.” It was unlikely though. Even if Tim did use that company’s streaming service, or any other legal streaming service for that matter, he would likely be doing it under an alias. And he was sure that Barbara would’ve discovered it by now if that were the case. “Thanks, Sash,” he said anyway, because she was only trying to help.

“I know, I’ll call if I get anything better,” she promised. “In the meantime, you and Taco should get some sleep, it’s way later over there.”

He smiled. “Yeah, brag about being in the west coast time zone, go on.” She snorted into his ear. “You be good.”

“You too, dumby.”

“When am I _ever_ good?” Jason joked, managing to sound only a little self-deprecating. 

“You are,” she returned firmly. 

“Keep telling yourself that.”

She sighed. “Night, Jay.”

“Night, kiddo.” 

As he pressed ‘end call,’ he noticed that the little fur ball in his hand was yawning again. 

“You tired too, kitty?” he asked him, still trying to get used to the kitten’s new name. Taco of all things, he thought, finding it amusing as he got the blanket from the kit and folded it out on the couch. 

“I guess you can sleep like this tonight,” Jason told him in a soft voice, “and maybe I can find a box to put it in.”

Taco squeaked a little as he was placed gently onto the blanket. Jason even folded up the ends so that it was more like a bed and Taco looked around himself as if not sure what to make of it, his head tucked low.

“So fucking cute,” Jason said and turned to go to bed at last. 

Before he could get through the door, however, he heard a noise that had him turning back. Taco had crawled out of his little blanket bed and had made it to the floor, where he darted under the couch. 

He went back to the couch to peek down at him, but only saw Taco curled up and looking at him with wide blue eyes. “Hey buddy, what’s wrong? You don’t like the couch? It’s gonna be cold down there. Come on…” 

He reached under for him, and though Taco squirmed away, Jason caught hold of him and gently pulled him back out. Once more, he sat him on the blanket, and watched as Taco cautiously made his way, still hunched, out and onto the floor, trying to hide under the couch again. 

Jason took him up, sighing. “No, kiddo. It’s too cold for you on the floor. No help for it, I guess.”

He grabbed the blanket, taking it and the kitten with him to his room, where we shut the door and turned his little space heater on. The apartment had central heating, but it was pretty old and didn’t seem to do much more than blow air that wasn’t as cold as outside, but was definitely not 75 degrees. 

“You can sleep with me,” he said as he toed off his boots and climbed into bed, deciding to keep his clothes on because it just felt weird to him to get undressed with Taco in his bed. 

He used the blanket to make a little nest, of sorts, for Taco to sleep in, between it and Jason’s body. Even if Taco decided he didn’t like it, his bedroom would be much warmer than the living room floor. 

“I’m such a softy,” he told Taco softly, who was turning his fuzzy head back and forth to take in the environment change. 

Taco kneaded the sheets under him, continuing to anxiously until he eventually curled up close to Jason’s head. 

Jason smiled. “But it’s not hard with you, furrball. Sweet dreams, Taco Cat.”

So close to him, Jason could hear him purring, and the sound helped him relax. He closed his eyes and listened as he fell asleep. 

TBC.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

-

When Jason woke up the next morning, he was alone.

This normally would not have concerned him. For him, waking up alone was the norm. Jason knew he wasn’t the type of person the other guys normally went for. Even in the one gay club he managed to walk into, no one had approached him. Which was pretty bad, but he supposed that his muscles and ‘chiseled’ good looks were still not enough to soften how messed up he'd looked. Maybe he was just that intimidating looking, or he looked like an abusive boyfriend waiting to happen. 

(Jason grimaced tiredly because no, that was a low he would never stoop to. Lazarus pit insanity or not.)

On the other hand, as equally bulky, battle scarred, and redheaded as Roy Harper was, he’d left the club with Jason that night with about ten phone numbers stuffed in his belt. 

But that was typical Roy, Jason knew. They’d joked that night about somehow getting Dick in full Batman gear into the club and that he’d still get more phone numbers than Roy had because _it was still Dick_. 

Little wonder that even Gordon knew he wasn’t the original Batman. 

Thinking of Roy, who was one of the very few people he was on friendly terms with, he should send him a picture of Taco too. Just to weird him out. He’d probably text Jason back demanding to know why he was sending him pictures of cats and if it was a weird come on. 

_I don’t want to know about your weird kinks,_ _Harper_ , Jason was already responding to the Roy in his head as he sat up. It was close to the afternoon now, with the sunlight streaming brightly through the blinds in his window. The sun created the illusion that it should be much warmer, but it was in fact nearly as cold as the night before. 

He was about to get up and look for his new roommate, when he heard a squeaky little cry come from nearby. Jason followed the down, looking down the side of his bed to see Taco on the floor, looking up at him with big eyes.

Jason had closed the door to hold in the heat, and subsequently kept him from the food he left on the couch. Except the door wasn’t closed, it was open a crack. Meaning the little guy must have somehow opened it? He didn’t remember Selina ever telling him about cats opening doors on their own.

Then again, she wasn’t exactly his biggest fan at the moment.

Taco mewed more at the sight of him and reached up with his tiny claws, gripping the comforter and trying to crawl up the side of the bed. 

“Uh.” Jason reached down to pick Taco up and back beside him in the bed. “Better?”

Taco seemed confused at first, then began to give himself a bath.

Jason chuckled as he watched. “Did I contaminate you?”

The kitten’s ears twitched, and his small body contorted into a different position so that he could keep licking himself. 

“Aw, don't you love me anymore?” Jason asked as he petted the tiny feline’s soft white fur. 

This seemed to distract Taco from his washing, because he leaned into the petting with his whole body, stretching his tiny limbs out on the bed. 

Jason smiled. “Knew you'd see it my way,” he said, even though the cat acted like it was all his idea to be in Jason’s bed and not the floor. 

He laughed as Taco bumped his tiny head against his palm and petted him with both hands, since the kitten couldn’t seem to get enough of the attention. The adoration switched to playfulness as tiny claws and teeth were unleashed, and the two of them play fought for a few seconds. Jason didn’t mind because he kept his touches gently and Taco was not trying to hurt him. 

He grinned and let him go, wiggling his fingers for Taco as if his digits were a toy, coyly trying to get his attention. 

Taco rolled onto his paws and hunched down low on the bedding, but not like the night before when he seemed so anxious. His eyes were intent on Jason’s fingers and his tiny rear wiggled. 

Jason chuckled, watching, adoring the little guy completely. “You are one cute little thing.”

His butt wiggles a few more times, very quickly, before he pounced on Jason’s fingers, tackling him with tiny limbs and biting on the humans large fingers.

“Good job, tiger, you got me,” Jason observed happily, rubbing Taco’s ears with his free hands. 

This made the kitten relax his grip, and he resumed leaning into the petting and purring. 

Jason got up to get ready for the rest of his day--he had some errands to run before patrol that night, and he still had sunlight in order to accomplish most of it and get home for a power nap before he had to go out. 

He smelled urine around one of the potted plants Sasha had insisted on decorating his apartment with. So he added a litter box and litter to his list of things he needed to do. 

Taco stayed on the bed and when Jason looked in on him before he left, he was curled up in the spot that Jason had vacated.

He melted. He would have to turn the space heater off while he was gone, but he quietly pushed the kitten’s blanket up against Taco’s back, to help keep him warm.

Then he finished getting dressed and left quietly, though not before snapping a picture on his phone to send to Roy. 

He’d expected a text in response, but instead answered a phone call while he was examining kitten items in the pet aisle of Park Row’s small grocery store. Their stock was limited and he was tempted to go back to shop at Bristol’s main street, because it would take a lot to get him to the shopping district downtown. Hell, Bristol was getting big, they even had a couple malls now. 

“Dude, why are you sending me pictures of cats at--Jesus, is it really ten AM?”

Jason hummed. “Yeah. I wonder if Bristol has a _Petsmart_ …”

“Du--Jase. Did you… adopt a cat?”

“His name’s Taco.” 

“Dear God in heaven,” Roy groaned, with some shuffling in the background. He must have woken him up. “I know you didn’t punch anyone out at the gay bar--”

“Okay, I wanna know something real quick,” Jason broke in irritably. “Because, do I really come off as a guy who would beat my boyfriend?”

Jason ignored the looks a couple of old woman gave him as they passed by. He recognized them and waved, but that just made them walk faster. 

“No… But I’ve known you for a long time. Since before. And I also have issues with my adopted dad. So. Anyway, all I meant was that it’s surprising that you’re taking this self rehabilitation thing seriously.”

“I’m not doing it entirely alone.” He had Sasha, who had been understandably confused by his change of heart though she’d been there when it happened. Barbara, Dr. Thompkins, even some of the Birds, and now Roy. Though he could be a little cranky in the morning, especially when he had to get up early and take Lian to school. 

“And a cat means I’m serious?” Jason asked, amused, as he picked out a cat litter with ammonia control.

“Accepting your responsibilities for taking care of a life that is small and dependent upon you, yeah,” Roy responded, “that’s pretty serious.”

“Aww. Thanks, Daddy.”

“Shut up.”

“How’s the adorable Lian?”

“She’s fine. I’ll probably have to bring her over to see the kitten. How’s it like kids?”

Jason frowned thoughtfully, remembering Taco’s obvious anxiety. “I don’t know, I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

“It’s okay. Can I call you back? Just woke up and now I gotta piss.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Lovely, thank you for sharing that info.”

“It’s what I’m here for,” Roy said cheerfully, snickering. “Have fun with the new fuzzy baby. He looks just like you.”

“Shut up, he takes after his mom.”

“Was that supposed to be a come back?”

They hung up eventually, when they finally ran out of comebacks, and Jason headed for the check out. The cashier was happy to see him leave. 

Jason shook his head. There went his noble reputation on the street, he supposed, and decided to blame Roy.

-

Though he was asleep when Jason left, when he got to his front door and tried to juggle his armload of groceries while digging out his keys, he heard Taco inside crying. It didn’t sound like he was in pain, like the night before, but it was a loud and sad sound. 

“Taco? It’s okay, buddy, I’m home,” he told the kitten, trying to sound reassuringly as he hurriedly unlocked the door and pushed it open. 

But when he looked around, he didn’t see his kitten anywhere in sight. What he did see, however, was that the kitten had made a mess of his apartment, with knocking things over such as the houseplants, books, and the trash can. 

Jason sat his recently purchased items down on the counter and went in search of his new little friend. “Here, kitty. Here, kitty, kitty, kitty. It's alright, Taco.”

His call went unanswered, which began to worry him as he looked under the bed and in the closets. He tried the couch again, where Taco had tried to go the night before, but there was no sign of him there either. Then he checked the closets twice, just in case he’d missed him. 

“Taco! Taco!” 

His old red dome helmet was sitting on the floor, and he accidentally bumped it with his toe as he passed by. He had to stop abruptly, nearly tripping as a flash of white fur zoomed by.

Jason sagged in relief at the sight. “There you are. Shit, Taco.”

Taco made a beeline for the couch and he crouched down on his knees to look behind it. “Hey, Taco. It's okay.”

Taco just blinked at him with those large eyes, hunched up behind the couch, just like the previous night. But he seemed more than anxious now, as if something had possibly scared him. Despite this, the kitten let Jason reach in to grab him, after he spoke to the kitten for a few minutes to try to help him relax.

“See? It’s okay. Hi there.” He sat down on his used couch and held Taco against his chest, secure in both hands. “You okay there, buddy? Didn’t hurt yourself?” 

Jason examined him for possibly injuries, ignoring how Taco squeaked and squirmed a little, but otherwise didn’t try to get away. He couldn’t find anything seriously wrong, and after a few minutes gave up and just held him, which Taco seemed to prefer anyway. 

He eyed the paw prints on his floor, from when Taco must’ve knocked over the plants, and sighed down at his little friend. “Did you get bored? You could’ve played with your toy…” But as he dug through the kit, he discovered that the catnip mouse was no longer there “Oh. I guess you found it.” 

Taco sat in his lap, his tiny body slowly relaxing into the petting, so Jason just kept petting and fussing. 

The toy must have been somewhere around the apartment, though Jason hadn’t noticed it in his search. Luckily, he had purchased a few more toys that morning, so Taco should be good for the time being. 

Eventually, Taco began to knead his pants with those tiny claws and Jason laughed a little, relieved. 

“I thought you hated me, little man,” he confessed to the kitten, who was purring louder and nuzzling into his fingers. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he was glad he had turned the volume down earlier in the store because Taco only jumped a little when he heard the faint _brrrr_ noise. He answered it. “Hello?”

“Problem?” Barbara asked. “I heard a lot of noise. And it looks messier over there than usual.”

Jason flipped off the ceiling pointlessly. “It’s not nearly as bad usually and you know it. Sorry, I guess Taco got scared, he was hiding.”

“Taco?”

“That’s his name. Don’t wear it out.”

She snorted. “Did you seriously just make that joke? Never mind. I think that's something they just do sometimes. According to Selina. What happened?”

“He was crying when I got home but by the time I got the stupid door open I couldn't find him.”

“Hold on.” Her voice became muffled for a few minutes, while he continued petting the kitten in his lap. Eventually she got back to him. “Selina says that cats get scared by loud or unfamiliar voices.”

Jason’s stomach sank, looking at Taco miserably. “So I scared him?”

“A little bit. They get over it. He's a stray too, so he'll be skittish sometimes. Just be patient with him.”

He rubbed behind the kitten’s tiny ears. “Aw, I'm sorry, Taco.”

“... You know, we're both a little out of our depth here, and we can't keep calling Selina, she’ll just keep insisting we’re not capable of taking care of a cat.” So this was something she was already saying? he wondered. “How about a book?” Her voice turned teasing. “Since you're allergic to the internet.”

“'M not allergic to the internet,” the man mumbled. He wasn’t, he just couldn’t afford to have a computer right now. His phone worked just fine for life related things and he had Babs’ for the rest of it.

“Mm-hm.”

He pouted up at the ceiling. “Not. Did I not check Tim’s computer for his internet history all on my own?”

This didn’t make her sound any less amused, unfortunately. “I'm texting you the address now.”

“What about Taco?” Jason asked as he continued to pet his cat. He didn’t want to just leave Taco in the apartment on his own after the poor little guy’s recent scare. 

“The owner probably won't mind if you take him with you, he's not allergic.”

Jason sighed. “Another friend of yours?” Barbara seemed to cultivate allies like Old McDonald had animals. “I'm not sure, Taco doesn't like traveling in my truck very much either.”

“Did the vet give you any catnip in that kit?” she asked.

“Uh, a catnip mouse?” Which he still could not see anywhere in the mess on his floor, and he didn’t want to disturb Taco just yet to look for it.

“Use it to play with him for a few minutes, see if it makes him a little more relaxed.” Jason made a doubtful noise, as her own didn’t sound overly confident. “Or I can send someone over to watch him while you're gone. Not Selina, she'll take him…”

Jason pouted up at the ceiling again, hoping she could see what he thought of that idea. “Tell her she can't have my cat. She can’t own all the cats. No matter how much she thinks so.”

“I will, just not sure she'll listen. How about Helena?”

“Mm, maybe. Does she seem like a cat napper too?” he asked archly, rubbing Taco’s ears some more and comforted by the faint sound of his purring. 

She snorted. “No, and at least the two of you get along.”

“Well, beating up dudes.” They didn’t exactly stand by the water cooler in the office, talking to one another about the previous night’s Dancing With the Stars finalists and who was unfairly eliminated. He didn’t have anything against Helena or the other Birds, but they weren’t exactly on friendly terms with one another either. Jason usually just left them on those nights to go home feeling marginally uncomfortable, like there was some drama going on that the ladies were keeping to themselves. 

Jason was paranoid these days, so he just assumed it had to do with him. 

It's your choice,” she sighed. “I guess you could wait until Sasha gets back…”

“Taco will like her,” Jason said confidently. “And she won’t try to steal him for his own good.”

“That might be better anyway,” Barbara conceded. “We should avoid causing him more stress today, it'll make it worse.”

“Aw, poor Taco. So stressed.”

His cell phone pinged softly against his ear, alerting him to the text received. 

“I've alerted your sidekick,” she added, “she's on her way to you now.”

“‘Kay,” he murmured, cuddling Taco close gently. He would have felt guiltier for calling Sasha away from San Francisco, but she often had to get away from the Titans Tower early. With the team being so brooding and worried, she claimed it wasn’t as fun as it used to be. Before. Which reminded him. “Any news on the Tim hunt?”

It was quiet over the line for a moment before she answered. “... Maybe. I'll talk to you when you get back.”

He perked up, not feeling quite so miserable for a second. “Babs?”

“It's good news, don’t worry, but nothing that can't wait.”

“Tell me,” he urged. Weeks of searching and she couldn’t just ask him to wait because she wanted him to run an errand. 

Barbara didn’t seem to agree, however. “It can wait. Go to the bookstore, be a good daddy to your little boy. He needs you.”

Jason groaned, growing frustrated with her attitude, and a little disappointed as his hopes were again crushed. If it could wait, then likely Tim hadn’t been found after all. “Babs…”

“Go on. I promise.”

Jason grumbled, assuming he would be sent on another errand for her involving whatever new lead she had found, which would probably lead to nowhere once again. Tim was just way more clever than they were. 

“You're a good daddy, Jase,” she said. 

He sighed. “I try.” He was pretty sure he wasn’t succeeding, but no one could say he wasn’t going to give it his best. 

The Oracle laughed softly. “Okay, talk to you in a few hours.”

“Sure,” he said unenthusiastically. When she hung up, he checked the address and grumbled some more. 

No wonder she’d said ‘in a few hours.’ She was sending him all the way out to Sommerset. From his apartment, that was a further drive than going to Bristol, and it was probably in the middle of town, too. Sommerset, being where the nearest international airport was to Gotham, had built up into a ritzy neighborhood, probably a little more so than Bristol. 

Jason grumbled more. There was definitely no way he was ready to take Taco on such a long drive, not without getting prepared first. 

In his lap, Taco’s small eyelids were drooping. He tried to focus on petting him, because while he may not be sure about what he was doing, he could at least comfort the kitten like this. It made him feel marginally less helpless. 

He couldn’t really do much with Taco seated so peacefully in his lap, so that was still where he was when Sasha knocked quietly on the door. 

“Everything okay?” she asked softly through the door.

Jason was pleased when Taco only twitched his ears in response. “Yeah.”

The redheaded girl came inside cautiously, a smile stretching her scarred face. It didn’t look as bad as it used to, but even with the magical surgery she had underwent (after gaining the Titans’ trust first, he always pointed out), some of the scarring was likely to remain for the rest of her life. That was just something that Sasha was learning to live with. 

“Hey. Babs told me about the noise. How's he doing?” she asked as she came inside. 

“Better, he was about to fall asleep.” Taco’s eyes had drifted open again, but his eyes continued to blink sleepily as he looked at Sasha.

“That's good.” She came further into the apartment, but remained in the kitchen as if afraid to approach. “I'll watch some shows on the laptop, that shouldn't bother him too much. Then when he gets accustomed to me, I’ll try cleaning up a little bit.”

“Okay.” He tried to carefully shift Taco out of his lap and onto the couch. 

Taco squeaked softly as he was moved, but he didn’t run to hide, which Jason considered a good thing. 

“Hey, little guy,” Jason told him in a calm voice, hoping to keep the kitten relaxed. “I gotta go run buy more stuff for you, but I'll be back soon.”

“We'll be fine,” she assured. “Once he’s used to me, I’ll get some ribbons and string and we’ll have a grand time. I'm kinda surprised he didn't go running when I came in. Must be tired.”

“Aw, or he just loves you already,” Jason said, rubbing Taco’s ears and letting the kitten settle against his hip for a minute. It made him even more hesitant to leave, even though he knew that he should.

Sasha was watching them and smiling. “Mm-hm.” 

“I also bought him litter and a couple other toys,” he told her. “He’s been using the plants, I guess, sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’ll clean up in a little while,” Sasha responded. 

“Think you can figure out the litter box too?”

“There’s litter, there’s a box, there’s a cat that needs to use the litter in the box. Shouldn’t be difficult.” She rolled her eyes. “Now stop stalling and go.”

Jason sighs and gingerly got up from the couch, getting a tiny squeak of complaint from Taco. “Aw, poor baby. I’ll be back soon, okay? Sasha’s a good girl, she’ll take care of you.”

“Oh my god, Jase, you’re not leaving the country,” she giggled.

Jason stood to pout at her. “He’s just moved in from the streets. He’s adjusting.” He knew exactly how that felt, to suddenly get used to being taken in by someone and having to adjust to the changes. 

“Yes, you’re a very good kitty daddy,” Sasha responded. “Now go.” 

He sighed and left reluctantly, taking one last look back at Taco, who was sitting up and watching him, before he left. 

The look in Taco’s no longer sleepy eyes made him feel awful and hoped the kitten didn’t make himself too anxious again before he could return.

-

He took the freeway out to Sommerset, rather than just taking the highway through Bristol, because he assumed it would be faster. He had not really taken the traffic into consideration, assuming that everyone drove fast on the freeway, and it was after lunch regardless. But apparently people had taken late lunches, because he hit a few jams and ended up stuck on the road way longer than if he’d gone through Bristol. 

So by the time he got to Sommerset, drove around until he found the right street--having to pull over to use the map on his phone--and found Barbara’s mysterious bookstore, he was in a bad mood. 

He paused long enough to demand in a text _Why couldn’t I have just gone downtown to a bookstore??_ to Barbara before he stepped out of his truck to get a look at the outside of the bookstore. 

It was an older building, though Sommerset wasn’t that old of a town, he’d thought. The style of architecture made him think of some places in New England he’d visited, way back when, with Bruce. The bookshop was built into the corner of the building and there was only a small sign over the door that proclaimed it for what it was. There was no way to see inside. The windows were all covered with thick green curtains.

_Because we need to support small businesses!_ was Babs’ reply on his phone. 

Jason sighed and checked the address again just to be sure. This was the kind of bookstore that he and Bruce had gone to in order to pick up more first editions for their collection, ones that the collectors were afraid to ship to the mansion in the mail. It didn’t look at all like the kind of place that sold books on cats. 

He shrugged and reached for the old bronze handle. If he didn’t find anything, he’d just stop at the Barnes and Noble in Bristol on the way home, that’s all. 

The door jingled softly as he pushed it open. It was a little stiff, possibly from old and weathered wood, and Jason inspected it a moment, thinking about the ways to fix it before pushing it shut. As he turned to take in the store at large, he saw that he wouldn’t have likely seen too much from the windows even without the curtains. 

There were rows and rows of books, along the bookcases and stacks on the floor, from floor to ceiling, as far as the eye could see. Which wasn’t very far. In fact, he couldn’t see anyone else in the shop, but there was a small path through the books that seemed to lead somewhere into the dark, dimly lit shop, so he decided to follow it cautiously.

He was so big, though, that he worried that it would all come crumbling down around him if he made one misstep.

“Hello?” he called. 

He heard a gasp and a rustle from somewhere further in the shop. Jason frowned and walked toward the sign through the path of books. 

Eventually, he came upon a counter with a small, old fashioned register. On the counter was more books and a laptop, which made him feel marginally better. He’d begun to worry he’d stepped into some crazy person’s bookstore that would send him on a mythical journey. 

He hated mythical, dimension hopping journeys and had no plans to repeat those excursions anytime soon. 

“Hello?” he called again. 

No other sounds followed. Jason reached for his gun and began to move toward the small entrance around the counter, moving gingerly along more stacks of books.

“Hello? Does anyone need help?” 

While the register looked untouched, that didn’t necessarily rule out a robbery. He almost reached up to turn on his comm, when he realized he wasn’t wearing his mask. He only had his gun out of habit, and it didn’t have real bullets. 

As he moved to go search the back of the store, he heard a noise and turned back to the counter. Underneath it was crouched a small figure--not a child, just someone much smaller than himself who could squeeze into such a tiny space. 

He couldn’t see their face at first, but thought it was a teenage boy. 

Jason crouched down with the boy on the floor, keeping his distance as he pointed his gun away. “Hey, hey, it's okay. It’s going to be okay. I'll protect you. Are they still here?”

The figure seemed to flinch.

Jason sat his gun down entirely, glancing behind him to be sure he saw no one there. He saw and heard nothing. Perhaps he’d already missed the robbers. “See? Not gonna hurt you. I'm a good guy. I'm gonna pass you my phone and you can call the police.”

“Please, just leave me alone,” said the scared teen, with a voice of someone Jason had only spoken to a few times, so it took him a moment to recognize it. “I'm not bothering you.”

Jason stared, the voice making his heart speed up, while the words had his crushing guilt rising to the surface. “Tim?” he asked, voice breaking.

Tim Drake flinched again. 

It made him feel like the scum of the earth. After searching for the kid for months, and trying to be a better person in general, Tim would always see him as the douchebag that had tried to kill him. 

He pushed his gun further away. “Oh god, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.” He held out his hands, palms visible. “See?” Then he opened his jacket, revealing the inside. “That's it, that's all I'm carrying.”

Tim’s dark head nodded slightly after a moment.

Jason made sure to keep his hands to himself but clearly visible. “I didn't come here to hurt you, sorry, I'm so sorry. Babs told me to come here for a book.” That was when, unfortunately, dawned on him. He’d been played. “And she knew you were here. Nice, Babs, you could've warned me…” he trailed off, grumbling and rubbing his face.

Barbara could have at least tried to warn him. Instead he’d come unprepared and had freaked the poor kid out. They were lucky he hadn’t decided to run away, which by all rights, considering Jason and Tim’s history, is what Tim should have done. If they ever got on good speaking terms, Jason was going to have a talk with him about fight or flight instincts. 

“A book?” Tim asked, voice soft. 

Jason nodded. “Yeah. I just adopted a kitten and I have no idea what I'm doing, and Babs suggested a book. I like reading books, so,” he added, Tim’s large blue eyes making him feel stupid. 

“A… book?” Tim asked again. 

Jason tried to smile disarmingly. It worked all the time for Dick, and the kid used to like him before their big fight about whatever, so it was worth a shot. “Yeah. It's a book store. Right? Or is it your cover for a case that I’ve entirely ruined?”

In the lamplight sitting on the counter, he watched as Tim’s cheeks turned pink. “It is. A bookstore, I mean.” 

Jason smiled a little more easily. “And I had no idea you were here, I swear. I'm sorry that I scared you.”

“It’s alright,” the boy underneath the table murmured, his face still pink. “My fault.”

He shook his head immediately, mind racing with the possibilities of what brought Tim here, worrying suddenly that he’d played a part in it because of the boy’s reaction. “Hey, no, it's not. It's really, really not. You have every right to be scared of me. I don't like it, but I understand. It's totally not your fault. It's my fault and possibly Babs.”

Tim didn’t answer, his eyes darting away to look at anything but him.

Jason tried to keep smiling and not think about how repugnant Tim must find him. No, Ives’ theory about him being Timothy Drake’s one true love was definitely wrong. “I've been looking for you. Babs, she had me looking for you.”

“Why? Did you... did she need something?”

“We were worried about you,” Jason told him because it was the truth. “You just disappeared... Did you think no one would worry?”

Tim’s brow furrowed slightly. It shouldn’t have been such an adorable expression, but on Tim’s face, it was hard not to be. “Yes?” he asked, sounding some combination of doubtful and confused.

Jason sighed and shifted until he was sitting on the floor as well. Still not close enough that they would touch one another. “Well, I'm sorry you felt that way, but it's definitely not true. Babs was worried. I've been worried, especially since you're so smart I couldn't figure out where you'd gone. Dick is worried even if he's being a jerk. Damian almost took my head off while I was at your cottage. Alfred, well, of course Alfred's worried. Ives is worried. Your other ex, Stephanie, almost beat me up for not finding you faster, she's worried too. Everyone's worried and wondering where you are and missing you. So there,” he finished lamely.

But midway through his speech, he knew he’d said something wrong, because the teen’s face had closed off from all expression. “Oh,” Tim breathed softly in reply. 

He must have hurt the boy again, somehow, and it made him feel worse. “Sorry, I. I'm sure you had reasons for doing this. And they're none of my business, I know.”

Tim whispered something to himself, and it was too soft for Jason to hear even from where he was sitting, but he thought it was, “Because I was asked to.”

Which made no sense. He couldn’t have heard him right. Who would ask Tim to leave? Everyone loved Tim. Jason leaned closer so that he could hear him better. “Huh?” 

“Nothing,” Tim said instead, “never mind.”

“Hey, you can tell me,” he said, in a tone that Jason hoped was reassuring. “I promise, I won't tell anyone.” He could imagine Alfred’s disapproving frown even now and tried to ignore how it made him instinctively want to squirm. “Won't even tell people you're here.”

“It’s nothing, Jason,” Tim whispered again, his slender shoulders hunching further. 

“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” Jason told him, because it was the first thing on his mind, so he quickly added, “but it’s really not my business…”

“It’s fine,” Tim said, as if he really didn’t care one way or another, and even that Jason knew was wrong. 

This was the same kid that had kicked his ass enough that he could be put in jail. Granted, not long after, he’d dressed up as a demented Batman and tried to kill Tim (who had also dressed as a much smaller version of Batman at the time)... It just didn’t seem like normal, even from what little Jason knew about him. The feisty little replacement should’ve handed Jason his ass, threw him out of his bookshop, into the garbage, where Jason knew he belonged. 

“It's not if it made you run all the way to Sommerset,” Jason said reasonably. 

Tim shrugged his shoulders. “It's only a town over.”

“They actually have an ASPCA, Tim. It's a different world.” Gotham used to have more animal shelters, but programs like that often ran out money as the city’s government spent more and more money on fighting the seemingly unstoppable tidal wave of crime that had somehow focused on them. 

Tim looked away again. “You said something about a cat?”

Jason let him change the subject, mostly because he sucked at this kind of thing. Confrontations that had to do with words and not fists. “Yeah. I have some pictures,” he added as an afterthought, pulling out his phone and flipping through the apps. He offered his phone as he pulled up the first pictures of his tiny little roommate. “His name's Taco.”

Tim looked at the pictures politely, but instead of taking the phone, he ran a hand through his messy hair. “He's... cute?”

Jason felt even more stupid. Not only was he there bugging the poor kid, already going through his own problems, he was bugging Tim with _pictures of his cat._ “He's still a little on the skinny side, I only rescued him last night.”

The teen nodded. “Very… fluffy.”

Jason felt so incredibly awkward as he put his phone away. “Yeah, uh. But you probably don't carry anything for cats. Babs just sent me out here to find you.”

“I could order you something?” Tim asked, the wrinkle appearing between his brows again. 

“Sure,” Jason said. “If it’s no trouble.” 

Tim merely shook his head, as if he wasn’t intimidating the kid so badly with his presence that he was basically bullying the kid into getting him books. 

Jason relaxed only slightly, because regardless it didn’t change that fact that he was an awful person who made awful mistakes, and reaching out a hand to help him up. “Okay.”

Tim’s eyes focused on his offered hand.

Jason flushed and pulled it away. “Sorry,” he muttered, hating himself more as he stood. A familiar soreness started to hurt around his shoulder blades and he grimaced, but made it to his feet easily enough. 

Tim carefully wiggled out from under the counter, standing slowly and brushing at the dust on his old jeans. 

The man made himself look away. He had no right to _look_ and looking would only encourage his thoughts and libido to wander off in directions it didn’t belong in. It most certainly wasn’t worthy of thinking about Tim in his too large sweater, the sleeves covering his fingers, old jeans that fitted his hips, and worn sneakers.

Tim edged past Jason to the laptop he had noticed earlier. Looking on from nearby, he watched Tim easily pull up a page where he could look at books.

Jason perched against the counter, keeping a distance between them for Tim’s sake. 

“Were you looking for anything in particular?”

“I don't know. Don't even know what breed he is.”

Tim nodded, giving him a thoughtful glance rather than one that could have been of fear. “He’s young?”

“Yeah, he can fit in my hands.” Jason cupped his hands together in approximately the same way he would hold Taco had he physically been there.

“Would a general kitten book work?”

Jason shrugged. “Sure. I'll take him back to the vet eventually, maybe she can help me figure out what he is.” He had no idea if different breeds needed different care, though Taco was considerably more affectionate than he was used to seeing cats. “I'd ask Selina, but apparently she plans to take him from me…”

“That's not nice…” Tim murmured, glancing at him again.

“Maybe not, but I'm not exactly known for being a loving and caring guy,” Jason noted miserably. “I can't really blame her.”

“Oh…” His eyes drifted off again, looking away at something else in the store, but not the computer screen. 

Jason saw the look and sagged, all his negative thoughts about himself returning quickly. Not that they ever really left. Leslie was telling him it was unhealthy, but Jason was positive that he deserved it. “Hey... Was it me?”

“What?”

“The reason you left. Was it me?”

Up from underneath the counter, he was positive that Tim’s cheeks turned pink this time. “Jason…”

He swallowed passed the lump in his throat. “Because I can leave. I can leave Gotham instead.” If anyone deserved to leave, after all that he had done, it was Jason. It certainly shouldn’t have been Tim, who hadn’t ever done anything but the right thing, as far as Jason knew. 

“You shouldn’t,” Tim replied shortly, focusing back on the computer.

Jason opened his mouth to press his point, but he had no response to that other than repeating himself. In the end, he didn’t know Tim’s reasons for leaving, only things that he suspected had happened. Just because Tim had disappeared a week after they worked together, didn’t mean that that was the only reason Tim had wanted to leave. 

Not everything revolved around his brooding, Jason reminded himself wryly, and took a deep breath to steady himself. 

He cleared his throat and tried again. “Well, if it was me. Whatever I said or did. I'm sorry. And for scaring you and trying to kill you. I know apologizing doesn't make it better, but I'm trying to do better. For whatever that's worth.”

Tim nodded his messy head. “Thank you?” he responded, in the form of a question, as if he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to respond. 

Jason shrugged uncomfortably. “No prob.” It wasn’t forgiveness, but maybe however doubtful he was, Tim accepted the apology nonetheless. He hoped so, anyway, because he did mean it. 

He kept watching him as Tim resumed checking through the potential books on the website he was browsing. Saying nothing, he let his mind drift over the things he had discovered about Tim while searching for him. It was still possible that some of it had been his fault, Jason thought in what he hoped was a more objective manner, but if it had just been him, Tim most likely wouldn’t have felt the need to run. No, something involving the kid’s emotional support had gone awry, and that pointed him in the direction of home. 

Tim rocked lightly on his feet, the movement drawing Jason’s eyes lower until he was finally checking out the rest of the teen’s body. 

He was definitely skinnier than he was before, something that even the big sweater couldn’t hide, his shoulders managing to look thin even with the layers of clothing. So he wasn’t eating enough or working out enough (or both) to maintain the extreme muscle tone that had graced his frame before. Even with that, he still looked fit, just a little more fae like, in a way that made Jason more concerned than attracted. 

His hair was also incredibly messy, reminding Jason of old pictures of him rather than the ones he used to peak at in the gossip magazines. He was also wearing glasses, which seemed to be real. 

Jason resisted the strong urge to cuddle him. He wasn’t Alfred, after all, and it would hardly be something that Tim wanted. 

“Um…” Tim spoke up, glance at him again finally. His face had gone a little pink again. 

Jason blushed also and made himself focus on Tim’s eyes. “Books?” he questioned, hoping for any topic that wasn’t what Jason had been thinking about. Maybe he hadn’t been checking the kid out, per se, in a sexual manner, but his observations were still not likely to be welcomed. 

He would have to lie, and he was an awful liar. 

Tim cleared his throat, his adam’s apple bobbing slightly. “There are a few options.”

“Yeah?”

Tim nodded and gestured at the screen. “If you want…”

Jason approached and looked at the computer. Though he was aware of Tim standing so close, he became distracted when he saw ‘Kittens for Dummies’ highlighted as one of the choices and grinned. 

“Oh yeah, that one, we gotta get that one.”

“Um?”

Jason glanced at him, and his smile dropped when he took in Tim’s pale skin and wide eyes. “Hey, you okay? You don’t look so good. Hold on, sit down.” He reached for the nearby swivel chair and brought it over, easing Tim down into it. 

If it was true and Tim wasn’t eating enough, his blood sugar could be low.

“M’alright,” Tim murmured, still staring at him. 

“Shh, it’s okay.” He felt Tim’s forehead, and finally Tim’s face began to take some color back, just enough to make him feel better. “I’ll get you something to eat.”

“You don’t need to,” Tim tried to protest, but his voice was soft, not angry. 

“It’s fine. You just need some sugar. Wait right here, I’ll be right back.” He left the teen there and walked up the cramped staircase. 

The little loft upstairs wasn’t really what Jason had been expecting either. It was cramped and messy, a far cry from the kept and sophisticated furnishings in the carriage house. But it still wasn’t as messy as his own apartment and definitely cozier. Unlike the carriage house, it looked like Tim actually lived here. 

Deciding to say nothing about the mess, he returned after a few minutes with a mug of coffee, that had milk and a liberal amount of sugar, plus a cereal bar. “You've got a fancy coffee maker but I didn't know how to use it…” He’d managed to work the coffee portion but wasn’t at all sure about the other settings, or he would’ve made the kid a mocha latte or something. He paused when he saw Tim’s face. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Tim murmured, cheeks still pink, for reasons unknown.

He hadn’t had a fever before, but Jason resisted the urge to check again, instead focusing on blowing on the coffee before setting it aside. “Better let that cool first.” He unwrapped the cereal bar for him. “It's cozy up there, I like it. Nicer than my place.”

“... Thanks?” Tim told him doubtfully, taking the cereal bar and munching on it a little.

Jason rubbed his thin shoulder without thinking. “You eat that and I'll look at these books.” He turned back to the computer, picking out Kittens for Dummies along with a few others. He snickered, amusement at the title returning. “Can't wait for Sasha to see the Dummies one. She'll think it's perfect for me.”

“How is she?” Tim asked, and something sounded better in his voice. 

“She's good,” Jason didn’t mind saying, warming to the subject as well. “Still goes to San Francisco on weekends unless she's cramming for Finals. She's going to college. Sometimes she helps patrol Park Row with me, but not often anymore, and she's watching Taco now.”

Tim nodded. “Rose and Cassie are helping her?”

“Yeah, they keep her out of trouble. And she keeps an eye on Superboy and Kid Flash.”

“Oh…” His face dropped down. 

Seeing the light go out of him just as quickly as it had come back, Jason didn’t think twice about reaching out to touch his shoulder again, trying to offer comfort. “It's okay. You'll see them again when you're ready.”

This time, however, Tim’s muscles tensed under his touch.

Remembering himself, his various failings, and how he had enormously fucked up everything, Jason winced and took his hand away. “Sorry. Feeling better?”

Tim nodded. “Thanks.” 

At least this time, it didn’t sound like a question, even if it was a little tenser. 

Jason tried another smile and motioned to the computer. “I think I'll try these for now.” 

The teen nodded and stood, returning to his place in front of the computer. “Alright. Do you want them delivered to your house?”

“Nah, I'd better pick them up somewhere else, if that's okay. Still working on the neighborhood. Not that I'd blame some poor kids for stealing them if they were hungry, I'd just prefer if they come asked me first…”

That, somehow, earned a smile from the kid. “Okay. The manor?”

“Sure, Alfie'll be sure I get them,” Jason replied, realizing as he did that it was a good idea. Maybe he would take all future packages at the manor as well. 

“Alright.” Tim’s fingers moved quickly over the keyboards as he entered the shipping information, not even needing to look it up, as far as Jason could tell. 

Jason watched, trying not to worry about the thinness and paleness, at least not right then. He’d done enough stupid things since walking into Tim’s shop, and neither of them needed him to add to the list. 

Tim finished placing his order and printed out the information for him. Jason thought it was strange that he hadn’t asked for a payment, but since he’d never done this before, he wasn’t sure how it was done. He could always pay when they arrived, he supposed, not wanting to push things by asking now. There was a chance, of course, that Tim had rushed through the order and had forgotten, all in an attempt to get rid of Jason as quickly as possible. 

He forced another smile. “Thanks. I appreciate this.” 

“It's alright,” Tim responded and Jason almost believed it was. “I hope they help.”

“I bet they will.” He folded the print out neatly and placed it in his jacket, stepping out from behind the counter. “I should probably get outta your hair. Drink your coffee and keep warm, okay?”

“Alright,” Tim said, watching him.

Jason took one last look at him, knowing something was wrong but unsure if he was really the one to do anything about it. However, he made himself head to the door and back to his truck. 

He decided to wait until he got home before bitching Barbara out about not warning him. It felt little better than a prank played on both of them, and he was so angry that he knew he shouldn’t talk to anyone until he had a chance to cool down first. 

-

Tim waited patiently until he heard more than saw Jason leave the shop. 

He was determined to stay exactly where he was to make sure Jason was not coming back, but only made it ten minutes before he couldn’t stand it anymore, the panic setting in something fierce. It lodged in his chest and settled there, making his heart beat fast, unwilling to relax and urging him to just _act_. 

He rushed to the door through his mounds of books, locking up the shop and swinging the ‘open’ sign around to ‘Sorry, we’re closed!’ Then he hurried upstairs to his room, not even taking a backwards glance at the coffee mug, though he knew he would have to clean it up when he calmed down later.

That really was far from his current concerns at the moment. 

Once inside his bedroom, he pressed all the safeties and locked down the security system, listening with a very small sense of satisfaction as he heard the locks moving into place. Then the security system chimed, letting him know his safe room was completely shut tight. 

He was safe and entirely cut off from the world. 

Tim relaxed a little, finally able to breathe, calming the anxiety pumping through his veins since first hearing Jason Todd’s voice inside his shop had sent him into a panic. 

Just keep breathing, he told himself, taking several deep breathes through his nose. 

He couldn’t allow himself to completely relax, however, because somehow he had been found. Despite all his carefully laid plans, Gotham had come looking for him, exactly as Tim had hoped to avoid. 

He grabbed his laptop and moved to the bed, determined to figure out how Barbara had found him. 

He would make sure it didn’t happen again. Even if it meant uprooting himself and leaving for some place further away. 

Tim idly pondered getting a job watching instruments in Antarctica. He hated the cold like few things, but that just meant that Barbara wouldn’t expect him to go quite that far away.

He ran the options through his head as he worked. 

-

Jason looked a lot less official when he showed up back at Ives’ place that evening, after checking in with Sasha and Taco, making sure they were getting along alright. His apartment was looking better and he’d left the two new friends playing with strings on the sitting room floor. 

The decision to see Sebastian Ives was quick and possibly spontaneous, he was already regretting it, with his mood already troubled.But he was also obligated to tell Ives that he had found his friend, and just telling him through a text message didn’t seem right. Ives deserved better.

Talking to Babs hadn’t exactly helped matters, either. She seemed distracted and not entirely concerned about what might be wrong with Tim. Nor was she concerned about not informing either of them properly that Jason was coming to Tim’s shop. Jason wasn’t even entirely sure that Tim had spoken to her at all yet. 

He hoped that Tim didn’t feel as violated as Jason was fearing he might be right about then.

He left his truck in front of the house and knocked on the door. The teen’s mother answered this time and showed him up to Ives’ room, who was currently working on something for school. He turned away from the computer screen to focus on Jason when he came in.

Ives’ eyes widened as he recognized him. “Hey. Any news?” he asked, swiveling his chair fully around to face him. 

“Actually, yeah.” Jason smiled a little, deciding to give him the good news first. “Found him.”

The redheaded boy’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “You did? What happened?! Is he hurt?!”

“No, not hurt. Maybe a little sick, or just isn't taking good care of himself,” Jason admitted before he thought better of it, because at least Ives would understand. Normally, he would have expected Barbara to, and he wasn’t sure what was going on. Maybe some drama with the Birds or Bruce he hadn’t been made aware of.

Ives was frowning. “That sounds like him.”

Jason relaxed a little. “So you said before. He's living on his own in a little bookshop. I promised I wouldn't tell anyone where he was, so I can't say more than that about the location. There's a little apartment above the shop, and not much in the kitchen, so I'd planned to take him some food…”

Ives’ eyes turned sharp as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “Are you here to ask me for dating advice?” he demanded pointedly.

Jason felt his face growing warm with embarrassment as the question sunk in, and all it entailed. “What? No, no, geez. He thought I was there to beat him up, there's just--no.” It was appalling. He was an awful human being. Coming to Ives’ house and asking him for advice on how to handle his _ex boyfriend_. Who he still cared about obviously.

“Are you sure? Because taking him food doesn't sound like something a police officer does for a former missing person.”

Jason hesitated before shrugging. “Well, then it's a good thing I'm not really a cop.” As Ives’ eyes widened again, he sat down on the bed and showed him the badge, so that Ives could get a better look at it. “See, a mutual friend of ours, the one who reported Tim missing, she made this up for me when I started working for her. Helping her find Tim. She's kind of a... P.I., only less detective noir and more kicking ass and chewing bubblegum.”

Ives took hold of the badge, his eyes narrowing into another hard look, which he directed at Jason. “Why were you looking for him, then?” he demanded, the friendly openness leaving his voice. 

“When this person asks you to do something, you do it.” Then Jason decided that wasn’t a bad idea. “In fact, yeah, if someone who calls herself the Oracle ever contacts you, Ives, you do exactly what she says, when she says it. Just in case it ever comes up.”

Ives’ eyes blinked at him rapidly. “Oracle? You work for Oracle?”

Jason was equally as surprised. “Yeah. You heard of her?”

“Somewhat. There are whispers on the internet if you know where to look.”

Jason grinned a little. “Yeah, I think stuff like that amuses her. So, yeah, I work for her.” Mostly, when he wasn’t doing his own thing patrolling Crime Alley. “I also wanted to find Tim because I just wanted to. I owed him that much at least, after the things I've done.” 

“So you really weren't kidding when you said you hurt him,” Ives noted. 

Jason took a deep breath and made himself nod, because this couldn’t be avoided any longer. Ives deserved to hear the truth rather than continue thinking Jason was Tim’s secret true love or whatever. Jason was more and more positive that Ives was actually in that role, or possibly Superboy. Anyone but him. 

“Yeah. Could give you lots of reasons for why and how, but in the end, none of it was his fault and he didn't deserve it.”

Ives’ hands fisted into his sweatpants, and he glared at Jason with increasing furiousity, his jaw going tight and defined. 

And the hard part was, he liked the kid. Jason knew he deserved his anger and nodded his acceptance. “And that's my cue to leave.” He took his badge back and crossed the short distance to the door. 

“Why did you come?” Ives demanded. 

Jason hesitated in the doorway, turning slowly to look back, facing the teen’s anger again. “I think he still needs help. I'm just not sure how, and you know him way better than I do. More than I deserve. Sorry, it was stupid.”

He still sounded angry. “So you _did_ come for dating advice.”

Jason groaned in misery, covering his face in one hand. “Oh god, it really _is_ stupid. I'm the guy I tell girls to dump, file restraining orders against. Not the kind you bring home to the parents, you know what I mean?"

Maybe there had been extenuating circumstances involved, but in the simplest of definitions, all that this meant for Jason’s little crush was that his past made him look like a crazy asshole. Which everything in him warred against. 

Ives’ eyes had gone all wide again. “What. The hell.”

Jason rubbed his face. “Ugh,” was all he could say, because there was too much. Too much hate for himself, too many mistakes. It made him feel tired. 

“Sit,” Ives said, pointing at his bed. “Explain.” 

Jason sighed and sat down across from him on the bed. “It's a really long story, and probably more than a little insane.”

“I’m sure I have time,” Ives responded, softening just a little, but his eyes still conveyed a great deal of anger. 

“Well, some of it is Tim's story to tell, too,” Jason admitted. “I can probably tell you some of mine though, I guess.”

Ives nodded encouragingly. "Go on."

“Okay. Here goes nothing. I was killed by the Joker when I was fifteen.”

Ives resumed staring at him.

“That makes me sound like I’m in an AA meeting,” Jason muttered to himself before sighing. “I can't explain how I came back. Lots of 'Capes' have tried to figure it out and there's really no explanation as to why,” he admitted, more from a loss of what else to say than the need to name names. He would just leave names out, he decided. It would hopefully still make sense, even without the entire context.

“Capes?” Ives echoed faintly. 

Jason nodded and gave him a wink, faintly amused. “Don't ask who. Can't tell. But, suffice to say, I died. It was really bad. I came back, but I didn't come back right. Like Pet Semetary. Don't remember much of it, but I was still in my grave, and still had some of my injuries, also probably some oxygen deprivation before I dug myself out.”

Ives sat back in his seat, holding his hands in his lap. “Fuck…” 

Jason decided to go on. “The months after that are still a blur. A family friend found me in the hospital, but instead of getting further medical treatment, she thought she could get through to me in other ways.” Not that he was angry with Talia, but Jason was smart enough to have figured out that it had less to do with helping him and more to win Bruce’s affection. 

“Her father got pissed at my lack of progress and wanted me killed. So she... dunked me into this mysterious fluid that's only in rare places in the world. That's where I start to remember things better. But before you ask why the shit's not being marketed, because hell yes you deserve a miracle elixir too, it comes with a price. I still wasn't right, up here.” He tapped his forehead sheepishly. “The stuff's known to make people go, for lack of a more PC word, crazy. So the Capes haven’t allowed the civilian population know about it yet.”

Ives was still watching him, but he no longer seemed to entirely be paying attention to what he said. 

He went on regardless. “I didn't realize I wasn't right. I thought every choice I made was perfectly rational and that I didn’t seriously need help. I was just plain mad at the world.”

“So you hurt Tim,” Ives spoke up again finally. 

Jason grimaced and nodded, miserable. “I did. Tim’s brother and his dad, too. Not Drake, the other one. One day, after the last big fight I was in with Tim and Dick, my head suddenly got a lot clearer. I just didn't think it made any difference until now. The Capes try, but they can't help everybody. So instead of sitting around brooding about how I've fucked up my life, I can help save other people's lives.”

Ives nodded. Then, as he watched, the boy’s face paled and he teetered in his chair, swooning. 

Jason crossed the short distance and caught him before he could fall out of the chair. He held onto Ives, kneeling on the floor beside his chair. “Ives? Ives!”

“I think I need to sit down,” Ives mumbled, his glasses falling off his nose and nearly off his head entirely. 

Jason pushed his glasses back up gently. “You already are, kiddo. It's okay, lean on me, take deep breaths.”

Ives seemed to come back to himself, blinking at Jason, but still looking a little dazed. “Holy fuck, I dated Robin.” Saying it out loud seemed to fill him with more awe.

Jason laughed softly. “Yeah, you did, you lucky dog. But if he asks, I did not tell you.”

“Tim was Robin. Fuck.”

He rubbed Ives’ upper back soothingly. “It's okay. Keep breathing. How'd you figure that out from what I said?”

"It just makes sense. He never told me…” Ives nibbled his lower lip.

“Not because he didn't love you.” Even without getting Tim’s opinion or knowing him well, Jason was sure on this much. “Pretty sure it's because of the opposite. Not only was he trying to protect you from criminals, Batman's pretty intimidating.”

“Batman.” Ives’ eyes fluttered wide again. “Oh fuck, Bruce Wayne is Batman.”

If Bruce ever found out about this entire conversation, he would be even more unhappy with Jason. “You didn't hear that from me. In fact, you don't know that at all, tell no one.”

“Oh. My God.”

“It’s okay,” Jason told him, still rubbing his back. “Keep breathing, you’re gonna give yourself a panic attack.”

“Kinda am already.” 

Jason kept rubbing, holding Ives protectively. “It’s okay. Breathe.”

“So who are you?”

“As in cape name?”

Ives nodded, giving him what could only be described as a ‘duh’ look.

“I was also Robin. The one right before Tim.” He could have told Ives about all the Robins, but he was already taking in enough information today. It took him a moment to remember he’d left off the part about being the Red Hood, but since he really wasn’t Red Hood at the moment, it didn’t matter as much. 

“Huh.”

Jason smiled faintly and thought back. “From how I understand it, Batman was messed up after I died, and Tim decided that he must always have a Robin. He didn't want the job, but Dick refused, so he felt like he didn't have a choice. I didn't appreciate how huge that was during my crazy time.”

Talia hadn’t been the one to tell him this story, of course. Jason was sure now that she’d wanted him on her side, if for no other reason than to have some sort of hold on Bruce’s heart. These were things he’d come to know, piecing them together from things that Dick and Barbara had told him. 

Ives nodded. “He has an enhanced sense of personal responsibility.”

“Yeah, guess so,” he agreed, because it made sense. 

“Is that why you were mad at him? For replacing you?”

“Probably at least partly.” He paused to think about it carefully, rather than ignoring it because of his guilt. “My feelings about Tim have always been complicated. I think I was more mad at Bruce. Not only was my killer still roaming the streets, he'd replaced me with someone who was obviously better. I guess that, at one time, I wanted to test him, to see how good he was. Then another time, I was mad at him for not wanting to be _my_ Robin…”

He looked up and saw that Ives was watching him. “So basically you've been in love with him forever.”

Jason stopped breathing. No, he _couldn’t_ breathe, because just the idea that that might be true. It meant that he was capable of cruelty to someone he loved. It meant he really was no better than the jerks he took care of every night. The pimps and drug dealers that beat their girls (and boys) when they showed the slightest hint of strength and disobedience. Was that the kind of guy he was?

_But the Lazarus pit,_ he tried to reason with himself. It made Ra’s al Ghul crazier every time he went for a dunk, and he’d been doing it for a thousand years or so. Though part of him didn’t want to blame the Pit. He wanted to take responsibility for his own actions. That’s what he was trying to do now. 

He noticed Ives smirking and managed to choke out, “That makes how I treated him worse.”

“It makes you human, and arguably similar to people he's dated in the past.”

Jason groaned and had to remind himself to breathe again. It was just the day for burgeoning anxiety attacks. 

“Do you need to sit down?”

Jason allowed himself to take a seat on the floor, his knees just not up to holding him up from that point on. 

Ives was very clearly amused by his misery, which Jason didn’t mind so much. “You didn't realize?”

Jason swallowed thickly, his throat dry, and shook his head. “No. I just thought I needed to get laid.”

“You're looking at the wrong guy if that's all you want,” Ives told him mildly.

“That's just it, I don't do one night stands. Only ever done it one time, and she was gone in the morning before I woke up. I just thought anything I feel for Tim now doesn't matter because of all the times I tried to hurt him.”

“He's very forgiving. Even when he shouldn't be.”

“Well, he really _shouldn't_ forgive me,” Jason said because he really didn’t believe he deserved it. Ives merely shrugged and Jason smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I probably didn't make things easier for you two, whatever his feelings are for me.” Ives shrugged again and Jason cast his eyes down to the ground guiltily.

“Heh,” he spoke up again eventually, if only to just fill the silence. “I love him.” It was weird saying it outloud, but it also didn’t feel wrong. It felt right, but also made him feel incredibly guilty because of it. 

“And you finally figured it out,” Ives said. “Bravo.”

Jason snorted, smiling a little more.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know.” He hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I know that I want to help him, even if he doesn't want to tell me why he ran. Maybe I'll figure it out eventually.”

Ives frowned at that. “Mm.”

Jason understood. He was worried too. “As for like a relationship, I guess if something happens, I'll let it happen. Just not gonna let it be my focus right now.”

“But you still want to take care of him,” Ives noted.

“Yeah,” Jason said, because that was easy enough to admit, after weeks of working through his denial. 

Ives nodded and seemed satisfied with that. “Okay.”

“Okay. So, should I buy him food?”

“It depends,” Ives hummed thoughtfully.

“Yeah?”

“If he knows he made you worry he'll feel guilty about it, but that also pretty much assures he'll accept it and make at least a temporary effort to do better.”

“Okay,” Jason said gamely, though he wasn’t sure about purposefully making Tim feel guilty about it. Even if the worrying about him was true. “So I'll keep coming by to visit him.”

“Be careful not to make him feel incompetent though,” Ives cautioned. “He'll get stubborn.”

Jason pondered that. “I guess I could ask him to cat sit for me…”

“... Cat sit?”

“I have a kitten now.”

“Okay then.” 

Jason smiled a little thinking about Taco. “He doesn't like traveling too much. I'll get a carrier or something.”

“Cats are like that. I don't think Tim's allergic…”

The older man nodded. “Babs--Oracle--she said he wasn't.”

Ives gave him a curious look. “Okay.”

Jason ignored it. He’d already told Ives more than was safe for him to know. He’d just have to keep an eye on Tim’s friend and made sure nothing happened to him. “So I'll start with lunch and an adorable kitten.”

The younger redhead looked amused again. “Alright. Good luck.”

Jason knocked his shoulder gently against Ives’ leg. “Mm-hm. I'll need it.”

“You will. He's mostly worth it though.”

Jason nodded, feeling a little lighter in his chest somehow. The guilt was still there, it just didn’t seem so huge now. “I think he is too.”

“Doesn't mean I'm not going to send him angry e-mails about taking off.”

Jason grinned at that. “Well, he did make us worry. A lot.”

“ _Yeah!_ ” 

He patted the teen’s knee before making his way slowly to his feet. His knees were objecting already to having been knelt on for so long. “Mm-hm. I'll let you get back to work.”

“Alright. Thanks for letting me know.” But rather than homework, Jason saw him pointedly open up his email client.

“Thanks for listening,” Jason returned, watching him for a second before leaving quietly. 

He heard Ives ask him a question, obviously thinking he was still in the room, and smiled as he kept going, realizing belatedly that he’d pulled a Bruce. 

TBC.


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four: 

-

The next day, Tim had managed to convince himself to open the shop again, and he sat at the counter. He only managed it because he kept telling himself that it was unlikely that any other members of the family were likely to come to the shop. Jason was unlikely to come again since he got what he wanted. He should have been safe.

When the chime went off, he was mostly engrossed in a paperback, so he didn’t look up until he heard someone speak.

“Hey...”

Tim was startled and jumped a little at Jason’s voice. He looked up sharply and took in the man standing, once again, in his shop. He looked the same as the day before, leather jacket and all. He was no longer dyeing his hair, the gray streak having weirdly been visible either way. Likely because of whatever magical powers had returned him to the land of the living, and even the strongest hair dyes weren’t enough to cover it up. It was trimmed back from his face, his chin and jaw had been shaved, so he looked a little more like himself. Or rather, the boy that Tim would once take pictures of. The one that wasn’t as angry as Bruce liked to tell people he was. 

Two things were new about him, however. He had an animal carrier and a paper sack in his hands. 

He was looking at Tim expectantly.

Tim had no idea what he was supposed to say. “Uh.”

That earned him a soft smile, green blue eyes sparkling and cutting through him. He used to have photos of that look in Jason’s eyes, carefree and happy, but had left them behind in the move. 

“I was worried about you still, so I brought lunch.” Jason lifted the paper sack and shook it a little. “And Taco.”

Tim glanced uncertainly at the carrier, not sure what was going on. He didn’t think Jason had shown back up to belatedly get his revenge while bringing _his kitten and his lunch_. “Oh?”

Jason looked uncertain as well, as if he expected Tim to say something else. “Yeah. Unless you don't like cats? I can leave him in the carrier.”

“Cats are... fine.” He just wasn’t sure what Jason wanted from him. This was very strange and uncomfortable and Tim didn’t want to deal with it. He hadn’t wanted to deal with it yesterday. He was supposed to be finished with this stuff.

“Okay.” This only encouraged Jason to offer him the sack of food as he sat the carrier on an actual clear space on his desk. 

(He had, in fact, just cleared it earlier when the FedEx driver came to get the order that a collector in Metropolis had placed for some first edition Roald Dahl books. Not the most esoteric things in his catalogue, but they had gotten him a decent amount of money. Not quite as much as he hoped to get once he closed a deal over some old sanskrit writings that may or may not reveal a portal to the underworld.)

Jason opened up the carrier from the little side flap, wiggling his fingers at whatever was inside. Tim could not see in from where he sat.

When nothing came out, Jason peeked down to look. “Aw, I'm sorry, buddy. I just didn't want to leave you home alone all day.” He reached a hand into the carrier and looked at Tim. His eyes were still gleaming merrily. “He doesn't like driving too much.”

Tim sat the food aside. The smell was delicious and turned his stomach a little. “Most cats don't.”

“Aw, poor kid,” Jason practically cooed as he continued petting his cat in the carrier. 

It was really unfair. They should’ve given the man a pet earlier, then maybe the whole mess that had started with Tommy Elliot, and all of Jason’s personal schemes that followed, might not have happened. 

Or maybe they would have. It was hard to say, since Talia al Ghul had quite a bit to answer for in this case.

Tim came over to peek inside, mostly to put some distance between himself and the food. “He might also dislike new people.”

“Not sure yet,” Jason admitted. “So far he's just met Sasha and when I came home yesterday, they were curled up on the couch together watching Marvel movies.”

“Hm.” He wondered if this was _after_ Jason had apparently spoken to one Sebastian Ives. 

Jason smiled at him, apparently having not noticing that Tim was a little irritated with him. Jason had promised not to tell anyone, but now Ives apparently knew his secret somehow. The last thing he needed were angry family members and friends appearing on his doorstep, demanding that he come back to Gotham. (Even though he was sure they wouldn’t. Maybe Alfred and Steph, but he was almost sure that no one else would. 

Babs hadn’t even asked him to come back. She hadn’t responded to his messages, but then, they had been rather rude and angry. After Jason left the previous day, Tim had been very upset and might’ve vented in long, scathing emails. For all he knew, Oracle had found them amusing.

He wouldn’t be seeing Dick. Tim knew he’d been right to leave.)

“Wanna try petting him?”

The question distracted Tim from his gloomy thoughts. “I don't want to upset him.”

“Okay.” Thankfully, it seemed like the man wasn’t going to push it. “Wanna eat lunch? Might give him a chance to relax.”

Tim was still unsure about all of this, but found himself nodding regardless. At the very least, he was morbidly curious to see how this turned out. “Alright.”

Jason reached for the bag and began laying out sandwiches, a container of soup (complete with a plastic spoon), a bottled water, and a disposable coffee cup with the lid on. 

Tim watched him as he brought around another chair for the redhead to sit in. It was from a coffee shop in Bristol, near his old school in fact, that he and his friends used to go to. In fact, he was pretty sure the food was all from this particular shop as well.

“I didn't know what you liked,” Jason was saying, “so I just got some simple stuff. Some soup, sandwiches, some sort of fancy seasonal latte…”

Tim eyed him, because he didn’t believe in coincidences. He was a detective, after all. So he eyed Jason, letting him know without words that he was fooling no one.

Jason looked up and noticed Tim watching him, his cheeks (smooth, he had shaved that morning) turning pink. “Ives might've suggested it this morning.”

Tim made a face at his ex’s name being spoken so casually on Jason’s lips. “Did you really talk to him?” he demanded without preamble. 

Jason froze at his inquiry. “Did he send you those angry emails?”

The younger man gentled his tone, realizing he was possibly being a little too harsh on him. Ives had not complained about the former Red Hood mistreating him in any way. “... Only some of them were angry,” he eventually confided.

“Oh. That's good. Sorry about the angry ones.” His face flushed again. It was something that Tim hadn’t seen happen a lot even before, so it was strange seeing him do it so much now. “I didn't actually tell him anything about you. He extrapolated.”

Tim did not believe this was entirely the truth, even though Jason didn’t seem to be overtly lying to his face. Ives had known way too much in the emails, more than Tim had ever wanted him to know. For his safety. He let his eyes convey his thoughts rather than his words, however, and was surprised when Jason winced. As if he understood exactly what he was thinking. 

The other man sighed. “I mean it. I was just talking about myself and left out the parts about you. Told him that I died and some of how I came back, without naming any names. He guessed anyway. I think he guessed before I even finished talking.” Jason raised an eyebrow at him. “He’s not dumb, you know.”

“Mm,” Tim hummed, mildly offended. He knew Ives wasn’t stupid, but regardless, there were lots of reasons he had never shared those things with him. 

Jason rolled his shoulder as if in discomfort. “And then he figured out about Bruce. Which I'm not planning to tell anyone, so as long as he doesn't mention it…” 

Tim stared. Ives knowing about that Bruce Wayne, Gotham’s first son and notorious billionaire playboy, was the Dark Knight, caused an instinctive panic to rise. He had trained himself to protect Bruce’s identity even before his own, though protecting his own had always been to protect Bruce (and his friends as well as his dad). 

Then he took a deep breath and reminded himself that Bruce had went behind his back, revealing his identity to Stephanie, and so if the man had so little respect for him, then it didn’t matter anymore. Besides, he hadn’t even been the one who told, it was Jason. 

“So, soup or sandwiches?” the man in question asked.

Tim shrugged, disinterested. He was trying to ignore the smell of the food. “Whatever you don't want I guess. I'm not really hungry.” He looked up and noticed that Jason was looking at him, worry in his eyes. “Yes?” Tim queried, blushing. 

“You'll try a little bit though?” Jason urged.

Tim frowned, wondering why it mattered, but he nodded. “Alright.” 

The man’s large shoulders sagged, the worry on Jason’s face becoming something else. “Never mind. You don't have to.”

His confusion ever growing about this whole situation, Tim attempted to not let it show. 

“It was a nice thought,” he said instead, feeling incredibly awkward, but he meant it. 

Jason smiled a little at his words, so Tim hoped that meant he’d said the right thing. He watched the man reach for one of the sandwiches, unwrapping and taking a huge bite out of it. 

Tim turned his attention back to his book, trying to ignore the smell of food, but keeping an eye on the carrier out of the corner of his eye. 

They sat like that for some time, neither comfortable enough to speak (and Jason had his mouth full anyway). Eventually, a tiny head began to poke out of the carrier’s side pocket. When he looked over, Tim saw that the kitten was adorably focused on the food. His ears were perked up and twitching. 

Jason grinned when he saw him. “Hey, Taco Cat,” he whispered. “I got you something too.” He slowly reached into the bag, trying not to make the paper crackle--Tim realized it was to avoid scaring him, as Taco started to creep back into the carrier. He pulled out a small container. 

He twisted the little jar open and held it out for Taco to sniff. It began to draw him again out of the carrier. “Yeah, you like the smell of that, huh?” Jason asked as he pinched a little in his fingers and placed it on the counter in front of Taco.

Taco sniffed at it, then sneezed a small, tiny sneeze, backing into the carrier again.

Obviously surprised, the new cat owner looked at the package. “Oops. I guess I'm supposed to put it on something…”

“Like what?” Tim asked, curious. He didn’t know that much more about cats than Jason did. 

Jason’s eyes scanned the packaging label. “Toys, scratching posts…”

Tim hummed as he thought about the items he had in his immediate possession. Then he reached into one of the drawers in his counter, finding a mostly clean cloth and a rubber band, which he tested the elasticity of, to make sure it didn’t snap right away. 

“Here, bud.” Jason ripped off a piece of lunch meat from his sandwich. “We can cheat a little today, it's a special day.”

Tim rolled his eyes, wondering how this constituted a special day, when Taco had to sit through a car ride that hadn’t been pleasant. “Here.” He scooped the catnip into the center of the cloth and then wrapped and fastened it in a bundle with the rubber band.

“Oh, sure.”

Jason reached out for the items, and their fingers brushed as Tim handed them over.

He felt his face growing warm, and he looked away, focusing on Taco as he ate. The kitten gobbled down the bits of meat quickly, licking his chops as he looked at the rest of the human food on the counter, probably thinking it was a banquet there just for his pleasure. 

“No, kiddo,” Jason laughed as he gently dangled the little ball in front of him. “You’d rather have this instead.”

Taco appeared not to know what to make of this offering at first, possibly since it wasn’t edible. But he began to squirm, starting with his tiny hind legs, as he caught the scent, and gave it some cautious bats with his paw. It distracted him from the food. 

Jason jiggled it some more to entice the kitten further. “You want it?”

Taco nipped at the ball as if to test it, or to see if Jason would let him have it. Jason opened his fingers and allowed him to grab hold of it. It fell from his jaws onto the counter, and after looking at it a moment longer, Taco began to take some more curious swipes at it. It was like he wasn’t too sure what to do with it yet.

“Aw,” Jason cooed across from him. 

As they watched, Taco gradually grew more enthusiastic and played with it energetically. So much so that he made the humans pick the ball off the floor for him several times, not that either of them minded. Tim thought Jason was just as amused as he was. 

He was a little envious of Jason, he thought, as he watched him trying to eat and fetching the ball at the same time. He was charmed by the kitten’s antics and wished Jason didn’t have to take him home. Though he hadn’t forgotten the reasons why Jason shouldn’t be trusted, he was just able to relax in his presence. Thanks to Taco.

He absently picked up one of the sandwiches to get it out of Taco’s way, absently taking a small bite from it. The delicious, fresh deli smell didn’t bother him so much, he noted absently, his focus on the energetic kitten and his toy.

The kitten seemed perfectly happy with the impromptu toy, not caring that it was made for him on the spot. He purred and made little squeaky meows as he played. 

“Cute kitten,” Jason said, after having to fetch the ball again. 

Tim was mentally tallying up the number of times. So far, Jason had had to get up the most, though he knew that Taco wasn’t doing it on purpose. Probably. 

By the time Tim finished the sandwich, Taco had worn himself out with all the playtime, and curled up on the counter, settling into lick himself, his blue eyes at half mast. 

Tim melted and reached out to touch Taco. The kitten’s head darted up as he did and Tim almost had second thoughts, not wanting to scare him off. But Taco didn’t move, so he settled his fingers lightly along the fuzzy fur of his back. 

He marveled at the first touch. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d touched something so soft. Or a kitten in general. Enchanted even more, he lightly pet Taco’s mostly white fur, his fingers moving up to the tiny ears and the spot of brown on his ear and eye. 

Taco tilted his small head into the touch, rubbing against Tim’s fingers, and making him smile He was encouraged to keep petting. 

“He’s so sweet,” Tim found himself saying, flushing at the cooing tone on his voice. It seemed that Taco just had that effect on people. 

“Yeah, he is, way more friendly than most cats,” Jason murmured.

“He might be a Ragdoll.” He kind of remembered Selina once, after their relationship had gotten better (and her disastrous attempt at dating Bruce), telling him about all the breeds of cats she’d owned. Though she argued that no one really ‘owned’ a cat. “They're very friendly.”

“Oh?”

“Mm-hm. They tend to go limp when you pick them up, that's why they're called Ragdolls.”

“Huh, haven't noticed him do that yet.”

“He might not do it that much?” Tim suggested. Or else Taco wasn’t a real Ragdoll.

“Dunno.” Jason was eyeing his kitten. “Should we try?”

“Later,” Tim said, sipping his latte to see if it had cooled down. It tasted faintly of pumpkin spice. “He’s happy now.”

“Yeah, he is. And probably high as a kite. I feel like a kitty drug dealer.”

Tim giggled, glancing at Jason’s smiling face. “Aw. It's not bad for him.”

“I guess.”

“It’s not bad for you, baby boy,” he directed to the kitten, rubbing under Taco’s fuzzy chin, who continued to purr and preen at the attention. He took his time drinking the rest of the latte, petting Taco as the kitten fell asleep, somehow feeling even more relaxed as well.

“He likes you,” Jason spoke up after a few more minutes had passed. 

This pleased Tim. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

“Good.”

Tim was surprised and looked up, to gage Jason’s real reaction, but the man was just smiling at him. As if it really pleased him that Tim liked his kitten. 

He flushed and hid his face behind his latte. He refocused back on Taco, petting lightly, not wanting to disturb him and his tiny, fuzzy adorableness. 

Currently, he was curled up on the open flap of his carrier, his tail wrapped around to cover his pink nose. 

“Hey?” Jason spoke up again. 

Tim looked up, curious. “Hm?”

Jason’s eyes were very earnest. This close, he could see the little bits of green in the blue, and in the back of his mind, Tim itched for his camera. 

He’d never been able to capture that. Likely never would. It was a shot he would’ve killed for as a kid. 

Then Tim realized, with some awe, that he hadn’t had the urge to take pictures since he became Robin. He’d taken some of his friends over the years, but not nearly as many as he used to.

He wasn’t sure what that meant.

“... Nevermind,” Jason said after a pause. 

Tim tilted his head, confused by the hesitation, but when Jason didn’t speak more, he decided not to ask. Whatever it was, Jason would ask when he was ready. 

-

He waited until Jason and Taco left to return home, but he did not feel the same panic as yesterday. All things considered, it had gone remarkably well. Any conversation with Jason Todd that didn’t end with blood, vomit, and tears was a good one, but the man had actually been pleasant. 

Tim still wasn’t sure what to make of any of this. _Some detective, Drake. Get it together._

But he wasn’t a detective anymore. That was the point of all this. 

Jason had left the soup and one remaining sandwich. The man had made Tim promise he would eat them for dinner later, and Tim meant to try, though he’d probably pick off the lettuce later if it looked brown. 

The soup probably wouldn’t be so bad though, Tim allowed, as he put both away in his small refrigerator. There wasn’t much inside. He should probably place an order for groceries…

Thinking about the computer made him think of Ives again. That would need to be taken care of before groceries.

He returned downstairs to the shop and opened Ives’ last email. This one had been one of the not-angry ones. He typed out a reply: _What did you and Jason talk about exactly?_

Tim didn’t have to wait very long. He hadn’t even finished the first round on minesweeper before he got a reply back. _Not telling, friend abandoner._

He felt his face grow warm guiltily at the accusation. _I 'm sorry._ He tried to think of something else to write, but that was the best he could do, and pressed send.

_You should be,_ Ives sent back. _I was worried about you, jerk. We promised we'd stay friends, didn't we?_

_We did,_ Tim agreed, squirming in his seat and glad that Ives couldn’t see him. _Sorry. It wasn't you._

He hadn’t really thought about Ives worrying about him when he left. Of course, Tim hadn’t expected to feel so much comfort from cutting off everything either. Only now, with Jason’s second visit, had he realized how lonely it really was and how much he missed his friends. Even if he wasn’t ready to talk to all of them yet. 

Cutting Ives out was likely the most unfair, however. Tim had decided to quit being a vigilante, not to stop being Tim Drake. Even if he wasn’t sure who that was anymore. Sometimes, like when he was dating Arianna or Ives, he thought he’d known. His relationship with Steph had been complicated, and Zo had probably been way too soon after Steph, so he hadn’t quite recovered from her loss. Her return had just made everything with Zoanne worse. 

Cassie didn’t count. Neither of them had been in their right frame of minds at the time. A couple kisses and seeing your future selves dating in an alternate timeline didn’t add up to a real relationship anyway. 

He also thought that being in a relationship shouldn’t have been so important to his civilian life anyway. Tim should just know who he was, right? 

Except if he wasn’t Robin, or Red Robin, he wasn’t sure what lonely, lost little Tim Drake had to offer the world. 

Ives replied: _I hoped not. Who, or what, was it? Anything I can do to help?_

Tim typed and retyped a response several times, aware that his friend was likely waiting for a response, and not that patiently either. Not after waiting so many weeks to hear what had happened to him. In retrospect, he was glad that Jason talked to him, but now he had no idea what to tell him.

It was more complicated than Ives (might) know. In a way that left Tim absolutely not wanting to talk about it with anyone. 

He eventually decided on: _Maybe you already did. Dunno._

_So Jason is good people then? He seemed like it but he also said some stuff about hurting you so I wasn't sure._

Tim frowned, wondering just how much Ives knew, but finding that this subject was slightly easier to talk about. Instinctively, he wanted to tell Ives that Jason Todd was a dangerous criminal and that he shouldn’t talk to him. 

But on the other hand, Barbara wouldn’t be working with him if she didn’t trust him. Or trust herself to keep a leash on him. He was going around town buying _books_ and raising a _kitten_ , that was a fairly obvious sign that things were different in Jason’s life now. Perhaps, at last, for the better. 

(Of course, once a person finally hits rock bottom, the only way there was to go was up. Maybe Jason finally reached that point.)

So what he decided to tell Ives was probably a lighter side of the truth: _He hasn't been in full control of his faculties. For several years. And when he has been, he hasn't always made the smartest choices. Something's changed. When I spoke to him yesterday and today, he seemed different._

_I hurt him too, don't worry. Always tried to give back as good as I got. He punches like a brick wall though._

Strangely, Tim thought as he looked over the email before sending it, to see if it was too much and if he should edit out something. It felt something close to good to be able to talk to Ives about these things. 

He wished he’d been able to do it sooner. Then maybe things could have been different in their relationship. He knew he hadn’t given himself entirely to it, as he never did with his personal relationships. 

At least he was able to talk to Ives about it now. 

Ives responded with: _Sounds like a jerk but I'll give him the benefit of the doubt for now. Doesn't hurt that he's hot as hell._

_He wasn't always a jerk_ , Tim found himself defending Jason. He wished he could take Ives back in time to see the Jason he used to know, if only through a camera lens. _He used to be more like he is now. Or who he seems to be now. (Need more time to determine.) Very corny and goofy, but incredibly passionate about helping people. There've been a lot of extenuating circumstances when he was a jerk. I don't know why he's back to normal (maybe?) but I think he wants a second chance._

There was a pause before the next message arrived, and it left Tim a little puzzled. _He seems really upset that he hurt you_.

_He does?_ Tim typed back. _He tried to apologize yesterday, but I was so shocked by him finding me, I didn't know how to respond._

_Yeah. He does. He was really worried about you being missing._

Tim bit his lower lip, staring at the screen and Ives’ words before he made himself keep blinking and figured out what to write back. _He might've mentioned that all of you had been worried._

_Of course we were, jerk._

He squirmed some more. _I'm sorry._

_Should be. Don't do it again._

_I'll try._ It was the best he could promise for now. His need to hide in the safety room yesterday had surprised him, even if that was what he’d built it for. 

_Do or do not, there is no try._

Tim snorted at the familiar line. _Very funny._

_My revenge for the fact that I can't watch Star Wars without getting hard anymore. ;-)_

“Oh my god,” Tim gasped aloud to no one, his face burning with embarrassment and a little arousal that the memory caused within him. Then a different kind of panic began to set in. _Please don't tell Jason about that. Or about the thing._

Waiting for the next email almost had him signing onto his instant messenger, but he wasn’t sure he was comfortable with that much socializing yet. 

_Which thing would that be?_ Ives replied back. _And why would I tell Jason about the time we were trying to watch Star Wars and kept getting distracted?_

_You know what thing. **The thing.**_ He knew Ives had to know what he meant and was just messing with him to be difficult. 

But Ives continued to tease him. _Which thing? That you have an inappropriate crush on your older brother? That you once passed out after I made you come? That you were a virgin until me? That you're totally hot for Mister Spock? You have to be **specific.**_

Tim flushed brighter with every question as he read them. _How I feel about Jason. Jerk_.

_You’re the jerk. Also. Ha! I knew he was your epic crush._

Tim sighed, grateful again that Ives wasn’t there to see his face. _Please tell me you didn't tell him._

_I bet you’re blushing. You’re so adorable when you blush._

_Ives._

_Sorry. He was pretending to be a cop and said anything might be relevant._

Tim groaned and spent a few minutes breathing through his hands, trying not to panic. _Oh my god. No wonder he's acting so weird. He bought me lunch today. And his kitten!_ Jason probably had no idea how to deal with it. A lonely teenager’s crush was probably not something that the man needed while he was trying to work on his recovery.

_If it makes you feel better he totally doesn't believe me that he's your epic crush._

Tim relaxed a little, but mainly because he was confused. _He doesn't?_

_Nope. How many sexy older guys do you know that he thinks there are all these options?_

Tim thought about it and realized he did know more than a few older guys. He’d even worked with a few of them on occasion, with and without Batman. Vic and Gar, who he’d worked closely with while with the Titans. There had been an actual crush on Dick, and while that was more idolization than what he’d felt for Jason, it wasn’t as though he advertised that fact. Hell, there was even Superman, who Robins seemed to notoriously have crushes on, Tim added to himself darkly.

And Jason wouldn’t know the reasons why he intensely disliked Clark. 

_I guess so... He also doesn't know I used to stalk him._ At least he hoped so. He hadn’t mentioned it to Ives before.

_Seriously?_

_I was very young and impressionable. And he looked really good in the shorts._ Jason in those shorts had been the source of his first wet dreams. He continued to have them while dating Arianna, which had always left him guilty and uncomfortable afterwards. He was glad that he never mentioned it though. Being jealous of Steph had made her dye her hair blonde, he didn’t want to know what the poor girl would’ve done in response to that.

Tim was pointedly not thinking about Arianna in the tight shorts. 

_I can kinda see that. You two are going to look amazing together. Sexy dream fodder for months._

He felt his face growing warm again. _We're not getting together. Even if Jason is getting better now, he doesn't have feelings for me. He hated me not that long ago so I'm not sure why he's suddenly being nice, but I don’t want to put his recovery in jeopardy._

Ives replied, not seeming to care about what Tim said: _You're totally going to get together and it is going to look like real life porn._

Tim groaned out loud. _Ives, it's really not going to happen._

_Trust me, I have a sixth sense for when someone wants in your pants._

He rubbed his eyes, holding in another groan before typing back. _Ugh. And on that note, I've got to see to a customer. Talk to you later?_ It wasn’t until he had the words there in front of him that Tim realized he wanted to talk to Ives again. Soon. Even if all he felt comfortable with was more emails, he was already looking forward to the pseudo flirting and familiar banter. 

_Alright. Just promise you'll call me if you and he ever decide you want to experiment with some recreational threesomes._

Tim’s flush crawled down to his neck and shoulders as he tried to tell himself that idea was not arousing. _Take care of yourself._

_You too._

There were no customers at the moment, but he needed a pause in order to think about what Ives said and what Jason Todd now knew about him.

-

Jason was standing in the middle of Ives’ bedroom, but unlike earlier when he had been there, with the sun shining, it was dark. But despite the dark, he could see the two figures in bed together very clearly. 

It was Ives and Tim, and their limbs were tangled together deliciously as the wiry redhead playfully pinned the small brunet beneath him. 

Tim didn’t struggle at the treatment, he only laughed, eyes dancing with merriment, his entire expression euphoric. Jason wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anyone that happy without being drugged, let alone his broody little replacement. 

“I’m going to be late,” Tim was saying to Ives. 

“Aw.” Ives bent down and kissed Tim’s chest. He continued to hold him down, despite the fact that Tim could probably easily break his hold. “You don’t really want to go. You want to stay. You like it, all the sneaking.”

Tim hummed and smiled up at Ives happily. “I do, but Tam really doesn’t.”

Jason thought he knew who Tim was talking about, but he couldn’t put a name with a face. At the moment, it didn’t matter, and he quickly forgot about it. 

“And I'm not sure I like sharing you,” Ives responded, tickling Tim’s sides lightly with his long, slender fingers. 

Tim’s soft laughter made Jason’s chest ache. He squirmed beneath Ives in a blatant manner. “Jealous?

“Mm, maybe,” Ives admitted, but he didn’t seem mad. 

Tim’s smile remained warm and carefree. “You have no reason to be, silly.” He leaned up to steal a kiss from Ives, who deepened it, holding Tim in place by cupping the back of his head. 

As he continued to watch, Jason wished he was the one that could so easily kiss those sweet looking, pink lips.

Ives moved his hand to cup Tim’s cheek. “Call in sick?” he asked between kisses.

Tim smiled happily. He looked so trusting and pleased with what was happening to him. “If you can convince me…”

Ives seemed amused by the challenge, his eyes sparkling. “Oh you need convincing now?”

Tim squirmed sweetly beneath him. “Mm-hm.”

“Alright then.” Ives sat up a little and looked directly at Jason, as if he had known the man was there the whole time. He gestured at him to come closer.

Jason approached the bed. It seemed to take him longer than the distance should’ve allowed, and he noticed that he was without his clothes. As were the teens in front of him, so that was alright. 

“Look who came to play with us, Tim,” Ives said to the smaller teen below him. 

Tim turned his head, looked at Jason and beamed radiantly. “Jase…”

Somehow, that made it easier for Jason to reach the bed, and he sat down beside them, feeling their warmth 

“Convinced?” Ives asked, nuzzling Tim. 

“Yes,” Tim practically moaned. “I’m so convinced. Happy now?”

“Ecstatic.” Ives grinned at Jason. “Told you he'd like it.”

Jason hummed absently in agreement, though he didn’t remember exactly when that had happened, and touched Tim’s face worshipfully. As he’d wanted to for awhile.

Tim nuzzled into his palm, as if he adored Jason’s touch as much as Ives’.

Unable to resist any longer, Jason leaned down to kiss him. Though he couldn’t quite feel it, part of his physical sensation feeling as though it were shut away, he felt a soaring happiness to be able to do it. Especially as Tim kissed him back, all soft, warm, and open to him. 

“Baby…” Jason called him, smiling as he kissed Tim more, not wanting to stop now that it was happening. He felt Ives moving down Tim’s body but even that didn’t stop him. 

Tim whimpered sweetly into his mouth as Ives started sucking him, his hip brushing enticingly against Jason’s. 

“Gorgeous,” Jason panted between kisses. 

Tim smiled up at him, blushing prettily. “Love you.”

This made him pause kissing long enough to study Tim’s face, marveling that he seemed to mean it. He melted and pet Tim’s floppy hair. “Love you too, babe.”

Tim beamed, then gasped sharply. “Ives!”

Jason looked down to see Ives with his mouth wrapped around Tim’s penis. He watched the redhead alternate between sucking and doing something with his tongue that had Tim gasping and squirming more. 

“Feels good, baby?” Jason asked him, teasing only a little.

Nodding, Tim bit on his knuckle as if to muffle himself, but Jason didn’t want him to do that. He wanted to hear any noises Tim made, and he didn’t want the teen to bite on himself. He took the knuckle away gently and gave it a soothing kiss.

The pale teen whimpered and squirmed more. “Jase…”

Jason smiled more and fingered one of Tim’s nipples, which were already hard. He watched as Tim bit his lower lip attractively, still trying to stifle himself as he squirmed more. 

Jason moaned as Tim lost more and more control of himself. “My Tim,” he murmured, kissing him again. 

Tim smiled into the kiss and whispered, “Yours.”

He pet Tim’s soft hair, trying to think why this seemed wrong somehow, Tim saying he was Jason’s. Before he could think about it too long with his fuzzy-headed brain, Ives let go of his possession of Tim’s penis, the organ sliding out of his mouth with a soft pop.

The smaller redhead reached around him for the lotion, which he reached over to poke Jason with the end of the bottle. He was grinning. “Do you want to, or should I?”

Jason knew what he wanted to do, but he glanced at Tim in question. 

Tim’s smile was sweet, face flushed and hair in disarray. “Would you?” he asked. 

Jason smiled and kissed him again. “I will,” he promised, earning another beam from his young lover. 

He took the offered lube and got some on his fingers, before reaching between Tim’s legs. He watched Ives stretch out on Tim’s other side, smiling as he fondled Tim lightly with his lubricated fingers, making him squirm between them.

Tim nuzzled Ives’ cheek sweetly, and moaned when Jason stopped teasing, slipping the first fingers into him. Jason was a little nervous at first, but relaxed as Tim’s entrance opened up for his fingers. He rubbed them inside against the teen’s inner muscles, stretching his fingers, remembering how to do this though he thought it had been awhile. 

“Jase,” Tim panted, moaning more from his ministrations. 

“Gorgeous,” Jason called him again, smiling as he happily nuzzled Tim’s hip and added another finger into him. 

Rather than uncomfortable, Tim seemed enthusiastic about the additional digits, whimpering and squirming in the ethereal moonlight glow. 

“Perfect,” Jason corrected himself, kissing Tim’s hip again. 

“Jase makes you feel good, huh?” Ives asked Tim, nuzzling his cheek adoringly.

Tim squirmed between them as if he couldn’t get enough. His hips were pushing down into Jason’s fingers, pushing them deeper into his body. “Mm-hm. Love Jase.”

“I know,” Ives answered, looking happy still, as if content that Tim loved him, that this was how things were supposed to be. 

Jason watched them, not nearly as jealous of their sweet cuddling now that he was part of it. They were adorable together, and when their nuzzling became outright kissing again, he moaned and had to resist the urge to touch himself.

Tim smiled shyly down at him, in between kisses, and he continued to push into the fingers stretching him. Like he couldn’t get enough of having something inside him. 

“Hey,” Ives stage whispered to Tim, getting his attention again.

“Hm?”

Ives’ grin was impish, eyes sparkling again. “We should put on a show for Jason.”

“Yeah?” Tim panted, his own smile returning easily, as though he already knew what Ives had in mind. 

“Mm-hm.” Ives resumed their sweet and tender kisses and, as Jason continued to watch, he reached down between Tim’s legs, taking his erection in hand.

Tim’s eyes fluttered, but they stayed on Jason as he moaned and thrust into Ives’ hand. “Mm, Ives…”

“So pretty,” Ives said, ducking down to kiss Tim’s pale neck. “Tell Jason how much you want him.”

“Jase,” Tim gasped softly. “I need you, please…”

“Tim,” Jason moaned softly. He kissed his hip again because he had no words for what he was seeing. 

“He likes it,” Ives giggled at his reaction. “More, Tim.”

Tim whimpered and managed to pant out, “I need you inside me.”

Jason whimpered against the soft skin at Tim’s hips. He wasn’t sure why he needed to hold back and wait any longer. Not when it was so important to Tim and so easy to give him what he wanted. 

“Please, Jase, don't tease,” Tim moaned softly, slender hips squirming more against his fingers and Ives’ hand.

Jason moved to obey, his hand slipping out of Tim’s entrance, his wide hips moving between Tim’s smaller, but still very strong legs. Thinking about them, Jason found his hands moving to pet and rub the teen’s sparsely haired thighs. “No more teasing,” he promised. 

Tim reached up for him, pulling Jason in so that he could cuddle close. 

When there was hardly any space left between them, Jason placed kisses all over his face and wherever else he could reach. “Tim…”

Ives smiled at them as he slipped out of bed. He leaned over to kiss Jason’s temple. As Jason looked at him, the other redhead shook his head. “Take good care of him for me.”

“Huh?” Jason was confused. He didn’t understand why Ives was leaving.

Ives just continued to smile at him. He took a step backwards, disappearing out of sight in a halo of light that surrounded the bed. It felt warm and safe, as if it would be there to help them, and even when the light had faded, it didn’t feel like he was really gone.

Jason turned back to smile at Tim again. “He could’ve been a Bat. Can't even use a door.”

Tim returned his smile readily. “He'll be back, if we need him,” he said, leaning up to kiss Jason again. 

Jason obliged him, kissing back. “Mm, I know. At least he left the condoms so we can make balloons.”

Tim giggled and shifted his hips just right against Jason’s erection. “Rather have you fuck me.”

This sounded like a good idea to him too. Jason grinned, kissing him as he gripped his penis, pressing the tip to Tim’s entrance. “Me too,” he said, kissing him again.

The teen arched his back, rubbing against him encouragingly. “Jase.”

Jason moaned and obeyed the unsaid command, sliding his penis into Tim’s body. His entrance was warm and tight, wet from the lubricant he had spread inside, and he went in with little resistance from Tim’s tight muscles. 

Tim squirmed impatiently once he was inside. “Jase.”

“Relax, baby,” Jason told him, kissing him more, though he was ready to start moving as well. “You’re so tight.”

“You feel good,” Tim panted into the enthusiastic kisses, pretty face flushed with desire.

Jason grinned at the flattery and gave in, giving them both what they wanted and thrusting a little, moaning at the sensation of sliding out and back into Tim’s muscles. “Tim…”

Tim whimpered plaintively, his flexible legs wrapping around Jason’s wide hips. “Jase,” he answered, trying to wrap around him as much as possible. 

Jason groaned and pulled the smaller Robin up into his lap, holding him close and possessively as he bounced him. 

The teen moaned, seeming to approve of their new positions, and nuzzled Jason’s stubbly cheeks. “Jase, so good,” he told him.

The man kept a hand on Tim’s hip and soft butt cheek, bouncing him, his other arm wrapped around Tim’s back, holding him close. “Tim, Tim,” he moaned, all his thought and energy focused on the compact body in his arms. 

“More?” Tim asked, whimpering.

Jason nodded, wanting to give Tim whatever he wanted, and switched both hands to hold onto Tim’s hips, bouncing him faster. He groaned as this just made Tim wrap his limbs more tightly around him.

“Love,” Tim whimpered.

He gasped as he came, and woke up. The ceiling above his bed was dark and cracked in places from age, there was no glow, ethereal or otherwise. Tim Drake was most certainly not still in his arms, and even though it had only been a dream, a very nice dream, the absence left a physical ache. 

But there _was_ a mess in his bedsheets. 

Since he did not want to do his laundry at three a.m., even if the laundromat was open. (It really was, but a group of homeless families liked to squat there after midnight, and he didn’t want to disturb them. They had a enough problems trying to avoid the local gangs whenever they found a new place to sleep.) 

So he got up, stripped the bed, and went to get the clean sheets. He almost tripped over his cat on the way back.

“Oh.” Jason smiled down at him tiredly. “Hey. Was wondering where you’d gone.” Taco had disappeared after they came home to hide and pout over his latest trip in the truck.

Jason felt bad every time.

He changed the sheets, then cleaned himself off and changed into fresh underwear. When he returned to the bed, Taco had managed to climb up onto the mattress, waiting for his master to return. 

He had to shift Taco over a little, causing the kitten to squeak in protest. “Aw, s’okay.” He curled an arm loosely around the small, fuzzy form. “Go back to sleep, kiddo.”

He saw the tiny kitten yawn widely, squirming a little and kneading to bedding, as if to tell Jason that it was _his_ idea to be in that spot, _thank you very much._

Jason smiled and watched him, until he eventually fell back to sleep and trying not to worry about his dream self’s lack of staying control. His dream had gotten to have Tim, so it was still a step above him.

Stupid dreams. 

-

They ate lunch together a few more times, sometimes with Jason bringing Taco along, but not always. Tim didn’t kick him out on his ass when he showed up without Taco, so he considered that a good thing, even if at first it was very uncomfortable. 

So Taco was their crutch for awhile. At least he and the kitten were getting Tim to eat. 

(He was also pleased to learn that Tim was also keeping in touch with Ives now, though was apparently not speaking to anyone else. Jason hoped that would eventually change.)

Their lunches gradually became more relaxed, however. They could talk, tell each other about their days (and in Jason’s case, his nights) without it getting too uncomfortable. Tim even smiled at him, small and shy smiles, but Jason loved every one of them. 

He wasn’t looking forward to Ives’ smug face when he finds out how deep Jason was falling for their friend.

They didn’t really have a schedule, but Jason had Tim’s number and they’d already texted their plans to meet the next day. So despite having worked the night before, Jason made himself get out of bed and get ready for his day. 

He walked into the bookstore, lunch and kitten in tow, and was surprised when he could actually _see_ more of the shop. The maze-like walls of books were gone, leaving the tall bookshelves and even the counter visible from the main entrance. There were still piles of books along the floor, but they were much smaller now. 

He grinned at Tim, who was sitting at the counter reading a different book. The boy read fast, so he usually had a different one every time he came in. (Apart from the time that Tim was reading a battered copy of _American Gods_. That took him two days, but Tim had liked it a lot, and told Jason so much about it that he borrowed it when Tim was finished.) 

“Hey,” Jason greeted. “We’re lookin’ good.”

Tim blinked at him over the pages of his book, pushing his glasses up. “Oh. Thanks?”

The glasses were new, as Jason had figured. Tim had gotten then just before he left Gotham, having noticed that words close up were getting a little blurry. Jason thought that if he kept up the reading, he might need a new prescription eventually. But that would mean leaving the shop, so he didn’t mention it. 

“What happened to all the books?” he asked, approaching the counter. “Did you take a page from Doctor Fate and opened up a pocket dimension to store them in?”

Tim parked his page, setting the book aside. “I sold them.”

“Oh?” Business had been picking up a little since the Dunkin Donuts opened up across the street, but he hadn’t thought it had picked up _that_ much. 

Jason sat the carrier on the counter first, opening the side pocket and reaching inside to pet Taco reassuringly. The poor little guy still wasn’t keen on traveling, but he seemed to like the shop okay. 

Tim shook his head. “A lawyer just got made partner, so he wanted some ‘smart looking’ books for his office.” 

Jason grinned widely. “Those were his actual words?”

Tim nodded, eyes twinkling merrily.

Jason’s own amusement grew, seeing Tim so visibly pleased with himself. “So what did you do?”

“If he ever gets around to looking at them he's going to find a lot of cheap fake leather bound fairytales, a couple different copies of the Kama Sutra, lots of Bibles…”

Jason snorted laughter. “Bet his partners notice before he does.”

“Admittedly, that was part of my plan,” Tim admitted, not at all modest.

“They'll think he's a religious fanatic with weird fetishes or something.”

“I hope so.”

Jason grinned as he kept petting Taco, which in turn encouraged the kitten to slowly emerge. “He's lucky you didn't sell him the Necronomicon you have in the back.”

Tim rolled his eyes, but he wasn’t irritated. “I don't actually have a copy of the Necronomicon. Or the Neverending Story.”

“Sure.” He didn’t believe him. 

Tim just shook his head, smiling. 

Jason grinned, knowing that his stubbornness on the subject was starting to amuse him, and smug that he got the teen to smile again. He began to pull out their lunch. “I found the place you recommended.”

Tim continued to smile. “I'm glad.”

The teen could have gone himself, of course, but Jason did not say this. He never suggested that Tim leave the shop or go home. He was trying to be supportive, even if he still didn’t know the reason why Tim was here. “I hope I ordered it right.” It was one of those Mongolian, do-it-yourself places, but they allowed Jason to order some take out plates. 

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Tim said confidently. 

Jason smiled at that and sat down in what had become his chair. Usually it was fine, but it strained the wound on his side a little, which he ignored. 

Together, they got the food and utensils sorted out, figuring out who got what. There was going to be a little left over, but Jason was doing that on purpose so that there would be food for Tim to eat later (if he remembered). He thought that Ives was perhaps reminding him, because Tim was slowly gaining some weight back. 

At the increased smell of food, Taco cautiously stuck his head out to watch them, and to smell. 

Tim smiled at him. “Hi, Taco.”

Taco blinked big eyes at the teen, curious and adorable.

“Aw,” Jason cooed, “I feel bad. He still isn't anymore used to the truck.”

“Aw, poor baby,” Tim said, slowly reaching out to rub Taco under the chin. “Does the catnip help?”

“A little.” Jason grinned as he pulled the ball out of his jacket. “I put some fresh nip in it this morning.”

Taco’s eyes honed in on it. “Mrrow?” he purred.

“Yup, here you go, buddy,” he said as he tossed it to him lightly, and watched as Taco chased it into the carrier. 

Tim smiled, watching the kitten as well. “So cute.”

Jason grinned. “The cutest.” He forked some noodles out of his styrofoam plate, chewing as he watched. He could once have used chopsticks, he even remembered how to grip them, but his large hands weren’t much good at holding onto them anymore. 

Taco was rolling with the ball, still in his carrier and not seeming to care, and Jason snickered. 

“Our little Taco Cat.”

Tim’s face went a little pink, but he didn’t comment on the _our_. “Little palindrome kitty.”

“Huh?”

“Hm?”

“Palindrome? It sounds familiar, but I've been punched in the head a lot since high school.” He was embarrassed to admit that he didn’t know, but there was probably a lot of things that Tim knew which he didn’t, as he knew things that he never wanted Tim to learn about. Like what it felt like to wake up in your own grave. If he could spare Tim that particular bit of knowledge, he would regret the rest of his pathetic life a little less. 

Tim’s expression wasn’t mocking or amused though. “It means that something is the same backwards and forwards.”

“Taco is the same backwards and forwards?”

“Here.” The teen rifled through his drawer for a piece of paper and pen. He wrote out _‘tacocat.’_

“Ohhh.” He grinned at Tim. “I hadn’t noticed. Sasha was actually the one that named him. I liked it so much, I kept it.”

Tim smiled a little, soft smile in return. “It’s cute.”

“It is,” the man agreed fondly, trying to will his eyes not to focus on Tim’s lips. “So it’s perfect for him.”

“Mm-hm.”

At that moment, Taco chased the ball back out of the carrier and down the carrier, to the ground far beneath him. Before Jason could get up to fetch it for him, as was their custom, the little kitten eased his way to the ground, using a stack of books beside the counter as if they were steps. His small legs with a little shaky, as if he weren’t entirely sure of this, but he was going to try it out anyway. 

Jason glanced at Tim to see what he thought of this development, and the younger man was watching too as he ate. (With chopsticks, but Tim probably hadn’t broken his fingers quite as many times as Jason.) 

“Oh,” Tim said as he swallowed, sitting up so that he could watch as Taco went down slowly, “looks like those are going to work well. Good.”

His brain took a second to process that statement. “You… made him steps?”

Tim nodded, eyes coming back up to him. 

Jason smiled reassuringly. “You’re awesome.” Because it was true, and it was most definitely not because Tim showed an interest in their kitten--which, in Jason’s mind, was the truth. The cat was as much Tim’s as he was his. 

The teen’s face again took on a pink shade. He did that more and more regularly around Jason but the man still wasn’t sure what it meant. (As he purposefully continued to deny Ives’ assertion that he was Tim’s secret, life long crush. Jason was just grateful that Tim seemed a little willing to give him a second chance. There were many people, like cranky little Damian or Stephanie Brown, that he was pretty sure he would never win over.)

Taco darted in and out of book piles, chasing his ball, but now that so many had been cleared out, he had a lot more room to roam around than he would’ve before, had he ventured to the floor before. 

“I just hope he doesn't get lost,” Tim said, having partly given up trying to watch Taco from the other side of his counter, and picking at his food instead. He took small bites, which Jason assumed was only because he was there and that Taco relaxed him enough to do so, but he appreciated the effort. 

“Or that he doesn't find any rats. Or trolls.”

Tim made a disgusted face at that. “Ugh, rats.”

Jason turned back to him fully, studying the expression and still marveling that Tim could be that relaxed around him. In order to make an expression like that. “Lemme guess. You had a bad experience with the sewers too?”

Tim made another face, squirming a little in his seat, all in clear discomfort at whatever memory this had conjured. “Fever. Hallucinations. Ugh. All the ugh. And I was still recovering from losing my spleen.”

Jason nodded. Though alive at the time, he had been training overseas and had to catch what scant news there’d been on the contagion in Gotham City. He remembered watching the news report on the scrambled television screen in a seedy bar, only half understanding what the Hungarian reporter was talking about before they moved onto another story. When he called her that night, Talia only said to keep working and not worry. Bruce would surely surpass the current ordeal, and would have worse to face when Jason was ready.

When he returned to the States, Jason got the full story, and hadn’t exactly been happy with Talia for awhile after that. (Of course Ra’s had been behind it the whole time.) 

It wasn’t as though Jason hadn’t missed many things, either while indisposed due to his condition pre-Lazarus, like he’d been during Bane’s reign of terror. Or after he became more aware, if still not entirely in possession of his senses (or sanity). He had, in fact, missed _far too much_ of their lives, and even knowing that had left Jason with still more bitterness about what had happened to him. Talking to Leslie and Barbara about it had made him more aware of himself like that. 

But he’d also heard that sometime afterward, Tim had been taken up to the Watchtower so that his spleen could be regrown. At the boy’s own request, so that he could keep crimefighting. 

Jason hoped that this was before Tim’s sewer incident, but with their lives, it was unlikely the kid had been so lucky. 

Jason smiled and finished off his meal, slurping in one last noodle that had Tim rolling his eyes at him. “Bruce had the hallucinations. He'd also been partly brainwashed by a cult of religious fanatics living in the sewers. So it's up to me to get the big guy out of there, right? Only the direction I take us in leads straight to the cult's little graveyard. Decomposing bodies and rats everywhere.”

Tim made another clearly disgusted face, not at all amused by the story. “Oh, gross.”

The man winced, immediately feeling contrite. Here he was, trying to get Tim to eat more, and he was turning him off his food with gross stories. “Sorry. I just shouldn't talk sometimes.

“It’s okay. I hadn’t heard that story before, actually.”

“Yeah, guess B didn’t want to talk about me that much.”

“It wasn’t that,” Tim told him, one of his hands sliding across the table but stopping midway. “It was too painful for him. The person he is now is way different than the one you knew then. Losing you, his son, was worse for him than losing his parents, who he kept on a pedestal for years.”

“Then _I_ got put on a pedestal,” Jason put in, with a touch of bitterness. He’d been to the Batcave once in all that time, after Tim had broken him out of jail. He’d seen the case, the monument to his failure and a life cut short. Mostly, Jason had wondered how he’d ever been small enough to fit in that costume, and how it had to be Alfred who fixed it up so that it could be put on display. 

Bruce wasn’t a cruel man by nature, but he unintentionally did the worst shit to people he cared about. 

The idea that his loss was held even higher than Bruce’s parents, though, was just an odd thought. He would have to ponder how he felt about that. 

“Sorta,” Tim allowed, eyeing him. “I know you think of me as your replacement, but I could never really replace you, Jason. I was Robin, but I had to not only deal with an angrier Batman who _stopped being Batman_ not long after he began training me. I also had to figure out how to be my own Robin, and what that meant, because I couldn’t be _you_. I tried. I tried so hard. It didn’t seem to make much difference, and with people trying to kill me every night, it would’ve gotten me killed if I kept trying.”

“Hey, I know.” Jason held his hands up in surrender, wondering how long Tim had been holding this in. “I know it now, anyway. It may not have seemed like it, but I was never angry with _you_. I was never even angry with Bruce specifically, not really. I was just plain angry, the kind of angry that just wants to hurt other people and watch the world burn. The kind of angry _that wasn’t really me_. It just took me way too long to understand that it wasn’t me, that it was something affecting me.” Jason ducked his head, knowing his words failed to truly encompass the magnitude of what he’d done. “I’m sorry.”

“Jason.” At the hard voice, Jason raised his eyes, looking up at Tim through his hair, which was starting to get a bit long again. 

The kid didn’t look angry, but his blue eyes told him they weren’t going to put up with his brooding. “You already apologized.”

“But you think I hated you and I didn’t!” Jason interjected, then winced and lowered his voice when Tim began to draw away from him. “I didn’t hate you. I never got that mixed up, no matter how else I was confused. I still knew what hate was, because I still hated the Joker more than anybody. If anything, I was pretty jealous. From what I could tell, you were way better at the job than Dick or I was.”

Tim’s eyes widened at that last part, his pale skin getting a little paler, and Jason was halfway out of the chair to rush to his side when the pink came back with a vengeance to the boy’s face. At least it was color back in his cheeks. 

“I’m fine,” Tim managed. “You don’t--need to say that just to make me feeling better.”

Jason raised an eyebrow in amusement. “I’m not. It’s the truth.”

Before Tim could respond, probably to deny it, Taco darted across the floor, coming around to Tim’s side of the counter and distracting him. 

The teen giggled, the laughter sounding strained, but there was a smile upon his face. “Hi, Taco,” he greeted, looking down at the kitten. 

Jason was relieved for the distraction as well and smiled fondly, eyes on Tim’s face as he continued to watch their kitten. 

“I think he’s getting bigger,” Tim commented. 

“Yeah,” Jason agreed, “growing like a weed.” He probably wouldn’t be able to travel with him as often to visit Tim, once Taco was no longer kitten sized. And just in general, he didn’t want their sweet kitten to grow up, even though there was no real way to stop that from happening. 

“That’s what kids are supposed to do, right?”

“Guess so,” Jason agreed without enthusiasm.

Tim looked up, smiling at Jason as if he understood exactly what he was thinking. “We’ll take lots of pictures.”

“Sounds great,” Jason said, though they already had a few. Taco was incredibly photogenic and it was hard to resist, though most of them were just on his phone. He wondered if Tim still had any of the cameras he’d apparently carried around Gotham, taking photos of Batman and Robin. 

“When he's done playing, of course.”

Jason nodded. “Otherwise you'd just get blurs.”

“And probably pictures of his fuzzy butt,” Tim added, eyes gleaming with mischief, and Jason laughed. 

He ducked his head when Tim caught him staring, focusing on picking up the trash for a moment. “Anything else interesting happened since we were last here?”

Tim shrugged. “Not really. Same old stuff.”

“Ah.” He almost told Tim about how he helped Dick and Damian fight Killer Croc the night before. But since mentioning Dick and Damian was still an incredibly taboo subject, he decided not to. Jason knew that whatever had driven Tim away from Gotham also had to do with them, he just hadn’t figured out how yet. One day, he was going to give in and confront Dick about it plainly. 

“Nothing really interesting on my end either,” he lied, hoping that Tim wouldn’t notice that it was a lie or that he was moving a little more stiffly than usual. 

Tim nodded and seemed to take his words at face value.

It made him feel a little guilty. “Anything you need me to move? Now that we have room.”

Tim hummed, looking around himself thoughtfully. “We could bring some more books out if you wanted…”

“Sure, I don’t mind,” he played along, removing his jacket and flexing his muscles playfully. It strained his muscles a little bit but he ignored it, thinking a few boxes would be fine. 

It earned another eye roll and a smile from Tim. “Follow me, show off,” he said, sliding out of his chair and leading the way, around the tiny staircase that led upstairs, to the room in back of the store. 

Jason had only been back there a couple times so far, usually to help carry things out when Tim found a buyer. These were the more expensive books in his inventory, kept for special buyers. He was pretty sure Tim had not purchased them at some estate sale, like most of the others stuck in the front of the store. Not when some of them were clearly magical. (Even if one of them wasn’t the Necronomicon, he still knew what they looked like.) 

Tim pointed to two boxes stacked on top of one another and Jason nodded, grabbing the first one by the handles. He couldn’t help the grunt that escaped him, the weight of the box heavier than usual, which he would blame on his wounds. 

He carried it regardless, taking it to the front room. He was halfway down the short hallway before the teen stopped him.

“Jase, stop!”

He was so surprised by Tim calling him by ‘Jase’ that he obeyed, turning back with his eyebrows raised. “Wha--?”

Tim was closing the distance between them. “Your shirt… Put it down.”

Jason sat the box down, wincing once again at the strain on his side, and that was when he noticed the blood stain on his shirt. “Crap. Must've pulled a stitch.” Alfred had used the good stuff on him when Dick hauled his bleeding ass to the cave, but Alfred had warned him not to strain himself. It was Jason’s own fault for not listening.

“Stay there,” Tim ordered in a voice that would not take any argument, not that Jason felt much like disobeying just then. When he returned from upstairs, he had a big first aid kit in his hands that Jason did not doubt was not standard issue. No matter what he was now, Tim was still a Bat.

Then Tim was kneeling in front of him, his head at crotch level, and Jason’s mind didn’t much care about customized first aid kits from that point. 

Tim pushed his shirt up and out of the way, revealing Alfred’s expert stitching which he would probably recognize, and the bruising around the healing wound. It wasn’t bleeding profusely, but enough to make Jason wince.

When he’d dreamed about having Tim like this, it hadn’t involved quite so much pain. Such was his life.

Tim traced the claw marks gently. “Croc?”

So much for trying to keep it from him. “Yeah. Not normally my gig, I know, but Babs asked me to.”

“Hm.” The sound conveyed Tim’s heavy amounts of displeasure. “Hold your shirt.”

Jason took hold of the end of his now bloodied shirt. “It looks worse than it is. All the bruising.”

“Hmph.” Increasing levels of disapproval. Tim turned back to the kit, sorting through it with a frown on his face, and pulling on some latex gloves.

“Sorry,” Jason mumbled guiltily. “I didn't want you to worry.”

“I worry when you start bleeding,” Tim hissed, concentrating on what he was doing.

“Sorry,” Jason couldn’t help but say again.

Tim looked up at him briefly, just to pout his unfavorable opinion, before carefully beginning the job of cleaning away the blood from his wound. 

Jason hesitated a moment before brushing Tim’s hair out of his eyes, only using his fingertips because he was afraid to touch him more than that. 

He still hadn’t touched Tim since the last time he tried to kill him. He knew he wasn’t worthy of it for that very reason. 

Tim blinked back up at him, with those blue eyes that Jason just wanted to lose himself in, even if he couldn’t stare for long periods of time. 

He put on a comforting smile. “I'll be okay. Alfred wouldn't let me leave until he checked me out.”

“Still bleeding,” was Tim’s reply, before he continued to dab at the wound, until it stopped welling from the stitches. 

Jason winced a little at the pressure, however light. The painkillers had worn off hours ago. 

When he finished wiping away the blood, Tim got out a bottle of disinfectant, which he swiped over the length of the scratches. 

It hurt a little, but Jason resisted the urge to squirm, since that would only make it worse and interfere with what Tim was doing. He had enough of the teen’s disapproval. So he leaned back against the wall, otherwise staying still for him as Tim worked. The pain was starting to lessen, replaced with a warm and fuzzy feeling inside at being the focus of Tim’s care. 

Tim pulled out a little jar from his kit. He rubbed the gel inside on his skin.

“What’s that?” Jason asked distantly. 

“Arnica gel,” Tim explained, eyes staying on Jason’s skin. “Sort of like a natural Vicks, and has the same tingling and burning when you first apply it, but then your skin goes numb. Feel it?” Jason nodded. “It will also fade your bruises and protect against infection,” Tim added.

Jason flushed at the intimacy of Tim massaging his skin with the gel. “Huh, cool,” he managed.

“Better?” 

“Much better,” Jason told him, smiling.

Tim nodded and carefully put his first aid kit back in order, then peeled his gloves off.

If ever he was going to have an opportunity, Jason thought as he pushed his shirt back down, it was going to be now. So he offered Tim a hand up to stand. “Thanks.”

Tim nodded and, unlike a few weeks ago, took his hand. He still stood under his own power, not letting Jason tug him up. “Just be more careful.”

“I will,” Jason promised, feeling emboldened enough to reach out, brushing Tim’s hair again, as lightly as before.

This time, while he wasn’t distracted, Tim’s face flushed lightly. Which only encouraged Jason to keep going, fingers following the line from Tim’s temple down to his jaw, finding a few faint scars but nothing too noticeable. He’d probably worn a little make up when in public, and no one would’ve noticed them most of the time.

The teen’s face grew redder, averting his gaze to their feet, and Jason moved his hand back up to pet Tim’s hair reassuringly.

That was when he stepped back. “I should put this away.”

Jason let him go. “Sure.”

As Tim hurried away upstairs, Jason walked carefully back into the main shop, knowing he’d likely ruined everything. Ives’ silly ideas were getting to him, that was all. Tim couldn’t possibly have a crush on him. 

He sat down and tried to relax, focusing on Taco, who was asleep on a stack of books, to help. The toy wasn’t in sight, but he didn’t worry about that right now, watching Taco’s small inhales and exhales. 

There was a shuffling noise behind him. When he looked, Tim was walking back into the room with an extremely unenthusiastic expression. He sat back in his seat, but he wouldn’t meet Jason’s gaze. 

Jason knew he was panicking, but he’d really overstepped his bounds, and he should probably leave. He decided to leave it up to Tim. “Need me to go?”

The teen shrugged. 

It wasn’t an enthusiastic yes, but it wasn’t an enthusiastic no, either. He’d clearly made the teen uncomfortable, however, so he stood back up gingerly. “I should probably lie down anyway. Alfred will be unhappy that I didn't rest.”

“Okay,” Tim answered softly, still not looking at him.

He cupped Taco up into his hands, placing him gently back in his carrier. The kitten hardly stirred, which meant the drive home would be a little easier for him. “We'll come see you in a couple days,” he promised, hoping that despite the current discomfort, their friendship was still salvageable. He just needed to give Tim some space.

Tim nodded.

“Can you keep a look out for the ball? Not sure what Taco did with it.”

The boy needed again.

Jason hesitated a moment longer, but he had no idea what to say that could soothe what he’d done. So he left. 

TBC.


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five:

-

A few days after the incident with Killer Croc, he went to Ives rather than to brave the bookshop again just yet.

Alfred had shown up at his apartment when he got home that afternoon, as if he knew that Jason pulled one of his stitches. (He was going to have to have words with Babs about this kind of thing eventually.) Alfred tutted over his wound, but seeing the treatment Jason already received made him soften and ask how ‘Master Tim’ was.

“I don’t really know,” Jason had answered honestly. “He’s a tough kid to figure out, and I’ve been more worried about upsetting him again than anything.” Which he had, but he didn’t tell Alfred that.

Alfred had eyed him like he already knew this too, but softened and continued tending his wound. (Jason wasn’t used to this kind of attention anymore, but here they were, two men he cared about fussing over him.)

“Master Tim is often difficult to ‘figure out,’ as you put it,” Alfred told him. “He likes to keep his true feelings close, as if afraid of recourse or judgement from those around him. I’m afraid that, in his association with us, he’s become that much more efficient at lying.”

Jason got what he was saying. It wasn’t as though Tim hadn’t been willing to lie before even meeting them, especially his parents. (A kid willing to go around Gotham City at night to chase Batman and Robin wasn’t actually _afraid_ of too much.) Jason also knew what it was like to fear losing what little you had.

Maybe he’d find his own courage to talk about that with Tim sometime. Even if the kid never opened up to him, he’d know that he wasn’t alone in not wanting to get hurt again.

But rather than gather his courage and do so as soon as he felt better, Jason went to pay a visit to Ives again. Besides, he’d noticed what date it was, having marked it during his investigation, and he figured that today was a day that Ives wouldn’t want to spend alone.

After the kid’s parents let him in, he walked up to Ives’ room and knocked softly on the open door.

“Come in,” Ives said absently, once again in front of his computer, hard at work typing on the keys.

Jason felt a twinge of sympathy for him, figuring that Ives spent many hours working on similar documents for his schoolwork. Even though that was a part of life Jason never got to experience, he could still be supportive for his college-going friend now.

“Hey,” Jason greeted, stepping into the room. “Kinda glad I decided not to bring beer. Your dad thinks we're dating.”

Ives snorted, typing only slowing down a little as he spoke. “Well, you do come over a lot.”

“Aw.” Jason grinned as he realized that was true, but it was only to be expected, now that Ives knew the truth about him. Not many people, even those who were fellow capes, knew about ‘Jason Todd’ and most of those who did, didn’t care for him much. And unlike a lot of them, Ives was nice to talk to.

Besides, now that Ives knew so many secrets, Jason had to keep an eye on him.

“You’re way out of my league though,” Jason added, only partly joking because it was true.

Ives snorted again, sounding amused. “I’m really, _really_ not but thanks for trying to cheer me up.”

Rather than argue that point, because that was probably not what Ives needed today, he sat down on the edge of Ives’ bed. It wasn’t made, but it wasn’t like that bothered Jason. Besides, either way, Ives’ bed still felt more comfortable than his own. “How you holding up?”

Ives shrugged. He was beginning to fill in his large shirt with a college logo in, especially around the shoulders, but Jason imagined that was just from lugging books back and forth on campus. “Fine,” he answered Jason.

“Need to vent?” the older man asked gently. “Shoulder to cry on? Or me to get the hell out?”

Ives finally stopped typing and turned to look at him. “I really am fine.”

“Oh.” Jason cracked another smile, sheepish. “Sorry, guess I'm used to trying to figure out Tim's 'fines.'”

The teen raised an eyebrow at him, but nodded in an understanding way. “Ah, yeah.”

Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “Actually, I may have fucked up with him already. He's uncomfortable around me again.” This was a little harder for him to admit, knowing how protective Ives was of Tim, and not wanting to lose Ives’ friendship in the process.

Ives’ eyebrows both went up this time, but he appeared to be more curious than angry for the time being. “What happened?”

“Well, I was hurt the other day,” Jason began, ducking his head, both embarrassed and still feeling ashamed for how things turned out. “I was over at Tim’s when one of my stitches broke. Nothing serious, but I started to bleed again and he noticed. So he patched me up again and it was pretty intimate. Yeah, I know, don’t make that face,” Jason added when Ives grimaced. “That’s how our lives work.”

“Just never thought I’d hear the words ‘intimate’ and ‘bleed’ in the same context outside of a bad romance novel,” Ives told him.

Jason grinned. “You read harlequin books?”

Ives laughed. “No! I just. Hear things. About them.”

“Sure.”

“So Tim was tending to you with the loving care that a Spartan warrior shows his lover.”

Jason blushed, but let Ives bring the conversation back to the subject at hand. “I wasn’t thinking, just reached out and touched his face. He blushed at first, then backed up and hid upstairs for a few minutes. When he came back down, he was pretty uncomfortable around me. Understandably so,” he added self-deprecatingly and shrugged. “So I left. But you see? This has to mean that he doesn’t love me. I’m surprised he humored my presence this long, to tell you the truth…” He trailed off as Ives began to shake his head.

“You confused him,” the younger redhead said.

Jason looked away again, studying the carpet of Ives’ bedroom. He didn’t know how Ives could continue to think he was worthy at all of Tim, not after learning more about him as Jason told him more stories of the past.

“I don’t know if it was his parents or his _extracurriculars_ ,” this is what Ives had begun to call Tim’s career as Robin, then the shorter one as Red Robin, ”or what, but he can't tell if someone wants to kiss or punch him.”

“... Well, I can't blame him for worrying if I'm going to punch him,” Jason pointed out hesitantly.

Ives just gave him a look at that statement, his gaze conveying what he felt about Jason’s self pity.

Jason turned his eyes back to the carpet. “Sorry.”

“You two really are perfect for each other,” Ives told him, and the words had Jason raising his eyes up once again. He was smiling and looking at Jason with a strangely fond expression, mixed with equal amounts of frustration.

“We are?” Jason echoed, still disbelieving.

“Absolutely,” the teen said with conviction.

Jason was unconvinced and this likely showed on his face, because Ives’ expression switched to an innocent smile that he recognized.

He eyed the younger man. “What?”

“Nothing,” Ives said, the smile not faltering.

“You have that look on your face again.”

If anything, his observation made the other redhead look more amused. “What look?”

Jason sighed heavily. “Where you don't know whether to tease me or just laugh.”

Ives hummed. “Maybe. Mostly just thinking about what idiots you and Tim are.”

“Tim’s not an idiot,” Jason said, instinctively wanting to stick up for the young man who he had grown to care about a great deal. It was definitely more than just lust or infatuation, he could admit, after spending so much time with him. “He has reasons not to trust me.”

Ives shook his head. “No, he's totally an idiot.”

“Why?”

“He didn't know I liked him until I practically beat him over the head with it.”

It didn’t matter that their relationship was ‘over.’ Not when Jason still felt that Tim and Ives were the ones that truly belonged together. “Oh yeah?”

Ives just nodded.

Jason realized that those details were probably something he wasn’t meant to learn, so he didn’t ask further. It would, also, probably just make him even more jealous. “ Well, he did let you go. That wasn't too smart, in my opinion.”

Ives gave him a little smile. “Aw, sweetie.”

He felt his face grow warm and smiled bashfully. It had been awhile since a guy called him ‘sweet.’ Normally he got it from Sasha, and it didn’t really mean the same thing from her.

“ _My point being_ ,” Ives continued, “if you want him to know you need to be more obvious about it.”

“I don't want to ruin things now that we're sort of friends.” Jason wasn’t sure he was a very good friend. “Remember, I still think you're wrong about me being the crush.”

“You're totally the crush,” Ives corrected with that fondly exasperated look again. “He doesn't want me to tell you but you are.”

Jason started in consternation. “He _said_ that?”

“Mm-hm.” Ives’ smile grew wider. “I'm also not supposed to tell you about Star Wars.”

“Which I’ve seen,” Jason said, still surprised over what Ives had just told him. “I wasn’t dead _that_ long.”

Ives’ smile got a far off expression and he sighed. “So awesome.”

“Me being dead?” He wasn’t sure what Ives was talking about now.

The teen rolled his eyes. “No, silly.”

“Oh. So what about Star Wars are you not supposed to tell me?”

“That we committed sacrilege,” Ives said with that same dreamy smile.

Sacrilege? Jason took this to mean that no actual religious icons had been defaced. “What? One of you forgot that Han shot first? Or said that the prequels were better?”

Ives rolled his eyes. “No. We were having a marathon of the movies on my sixth month anniversary, and then sex happened.”

Jason choked, despite not actually drinking anything, and it made Ives laugh at him. Which should have pissed him off, but he knew Ives wasn’t laughing _at_ him. (Except that he totally was, but it wasn’t meant to be meanly.)

“Wait, which one? No, which scenes?” He had to know the details. Maybe he was a glutton for self punishment, but he was far too curious now.

“All of the prequels, then on and off during the original trilogy.”

“Well, the prequels I can understand. Ewan McGregor's _face_.”

“Mm-hm,” Ives hummed dreamily, swaying slowly in his swivel chair.

Jason grinned. No matter how jealous he was, he enjoyed seeing Ives looking this content. “Okay, but what scenes in the originals? Don't tease me, dude, I need to know.”

Ives hummed thoughtfully and began to describe the scenes, which Jason was familiar enough with, having seen the movies quite a few times when he was growing up at the mansion. (And even predating the mansion, when he still lived with Catherine Todd. Some of his earliest memories were of his mom watching the movies with him. Of course, as he listened to Ives, he pointedly did not think of Catherine.)

“There was the carbonite freezing scene.”

“So a little comfort sex, that's cute.”

“When they were hiding in the Millenium Falcon.”

“Huh. Now I’m imagining you two having sex in tight spaces.”

Ives grinned at that. “I don't suppose the couch counts.”

“Not in my line of work, but couch sex can be weird in itself.”

“Yeah, angles,” Ives agreed.

Jason nodded. “Of course, last I tried, I was much smaller.”

“Mm, yeah, size can be an advantage.”

“Oh yeah.”

Ives blinked at him. “... Now I totally want to know.”

Jason flushed and coughed again. “Oh no, we're not talk about my sexual exploits. Or lack thereof.”

The smaller redhead pouted. “Why not? I’m not getting any, but I can still dream.”

“Because I'm embarrassed, there really isn’t that much to tell you about,” Jason admitted. “For instance, I can admit that my straight friend attracts more attention in a gay bar than I do.”

“What's the straight friend look like?”

“Tall, muscles, long red hair. Usually carries a bow.”

Ives’ eyes widened. “Oh…”

“What?”

“ ... I kind of thought you were going to say Nightwing in which case I could totally understand because _dat ass_.”

Jason was equal parts surprised and amused as he laughed loudly at that proclamation. It had been years since anyone had expressed an admiration of Dick’s ass, and he found it no less amusing even as he totally understood. “He works his ass off to keep it that way. Pun intended.”

This earned a giggle from Ives. “I don't suppose that he ever did porn?”

“I hope so. Think of the blackmail.”

“Think of _dat ass_ ,” Ives corrected because he really did have better priorities.

Jason laughed more, a little giddy from Ives’ obvious amusement. “Not that much. He's my big brother too.” Not that Ives didn’t know about the familial relationship, Jason had told him all about being Bruce Wayne’s ward as well.

“Doesn’t stop Tim.”

“Now Dick, I would buy. Of course he's in love with Dick. Dick's a nice guy that doesn't kill people.”

Ives’ eyes darkened tellingly. “Hmph.”

Jason winced, knowing he had said too much. Either by reminding Ives the kind of guy he used to be, or for feeling sorry for himself out loud. Possibly both. “And there I go brooding. You'd be better off celebrating your anniversary on your own, kiddo.”

His eyes softened out of confusion. “Anniversary?”

“It's been a year right? Being cancer-free.”

Ives blinked and didn’t answer at first, just looked at the _Star Trek_ calendar on his wall. “Huh, I guess you're right.”

“Thought that's why I should check on you today. And why I almost brought the beer.”

When he turned back, Ives’ expression turned decidedly melancholy. He left the chair in front of his computer and sat beside him on the bed. “No, I lost track. I just wanted to know how you and Tim were doing.”

Jason winced again and shifted closer, Ives’ wistful smile tearing him up inside. “Ives... If you want me to back off Tim…”

“Huh?” Ives asked, confused.

“You miss him.”

“Tim?”

“Yeah, unless you have another ex boyfriend you're pining over.”

Ives frowned indignantly. “I am _not_ pining!”

Jason looked at him knowingly. “Yeah?”

Ives gave in, shoulders drooping. “Okay, maybe I am a little. But it isn't for him. Specifically.”

He didn’t believe this either. “Oh?”

“Been there done that,” Ives answered airily. “It'd just be nice to have someone.”

Jason put an arm around Ives, not wanting him to be lonely. “It is.” Not that he’d had someone in a long time. It was still nicer than being alone.

“And do you know how many people want to date cancer patients? I'll give you a hint, no one except the weird fetishists.”

Jason gave him a squeeze. “Hey. Tim isn't like that. I'm not. And I've never played matchmaker, but we can try it sometime…” If anything, he could introduce Ives to Dick. Though for some reason that thought didn’t settle well in his stomach. He blamed this on Dick being an asshole to Tim (which he was still going to figure out eventually.)

Ives smiled faintly. “Maybe after I get you two idiots together.”

Jason rubbed his arm. “I know I can’t sympathize with you in this, and I’m not trying to. That would be an asshole thing to do. But,” he added, standing up awkwardly, “lemme show you why I’m not popular with the guys.”

He lifted up his shirt and showed Ives the rough scars that covered his back. He was still sore from Croc’s scar, but he could mostly move his arms without too much pain now.

“Jase…” Ives murmured.

“Most of it’s old,” he said as he pushed his shirt back down over his chest, which was only marginally better. “From when I died.”

Ives nodded. “This one doesn’t look too good.”

“It’s healing.” Jason sat back down close to Ives. “But I’m not exactly what most guys find attractive.”

“Those guys are jerks then,” Ives told him firmly. “You’re hot.”

“Thanks,” Jason said, meaning it, and brushing Ives’ hair out of the way so he could place a kiss on the other redhead’s forehead. “And anyone who doesn't want to date you is a moron. If someone ever mistreats you--well, I can't kill them, I'm reformed, but I'll find a way to make 'em pay.”

Ives’ face was flushed. “Sweetheart.”

Jason ducked his head modestly. “Nah. Just a big dumb guy.”

“Not,” the shorter redhead argued, darting in to peck him lightly on the lips.

Jason smiled and held him close. “We gotta celebrate somehow.”

Ives made a little choking sound that made him realize how that must have sounded.

“Not with sex,” he added quickly.

“Oh, good?” Ives coughed out.

“Maybe another time,” he said, because it wasn’t like he never thought about it, he was depressed but he was still a dude. “We're both brooding too much. And then there's Tim.” Who he really did care about, whether Tim really had feelings for him or not, and he knew that Ives did too.

Even if it was incredibly flattering and did funny things to his stomach just thinking about it.

“Yeah,” Ives agreed, still a little uncomfortable.

Jason gave him a little squeeze. “So let's go watch a movie or something.”

“Okay.” Ives shifted away from him a little. “So, what movie do you want to watch?”

Jason let him go. “Anything with action.”

“Hm, Princess Bride.”

“Always fun.”

Ives nodded and stood, going to his computer. Jason leaned back in Ives’ bed, kicking off his boots and watching as Ives got the movie on his computer. He lazily checked over the tall teen’s backside, telling himself he was just making sure Ives was doing okay. 

Once he got the movie up, Ives crawled into bed to sit beside Jason, and the older redhead relaxed, leaning back to rest his head on the pillows as the familiar movie started playing. 

At first, he was mouthing the dialogue right along with Ives, which amused them both and had them smiling at one another occasionally. However, the movie was perhaps too familiar, and acted as a comforting blanket over his mind. He was lulled pretty easily into a sleepy state, which Jason tried to fight off by shifting his feet or legs, but he didn’t feel like sitting up. 

He knew he should stay awake, he was supposed to be keeping Ives company and not falling asleep on him like this, but it sounded far too nice to just let himself drift off. It was more than just the movie, he realized sleepily, it was because he also trusted Ives enough to let down his guard with the teen in the same room. Ives had had plenty of opportunity to tell people about Jason’s story, or even who Batman was, but he was smart enough not to. Ives also hadn’t used anything Jason had told him in confidence against him. He knew that anything he told the other redhead not only safe, but that after the initial anger, Ives still _liked_ him. 

He’d never gotten used to being liked. While he thought he’d made friends as a kid in the superhero community, the way they all spoke about him now, Jason had been assured that his death was his own fault. Jason knew that it was, but to hear things like ‘he should never have been Robin, he was too angry, Batman should have trained him better, the new Robin had much more training,’ was hard. 

Ives, even though he still loved Tim, never said anything like that. He just accepted that both of them had been Capes, and was mostly still dealing with the fact that Tim had been one all along and hadn’t told him. 

Jason let his eyes slide closed as he thought about that. It would be pretty hard to deal with, so he couldn’t blame Ives. Besides, Jason thought he was dealing with it pretty _well_. He’d apparently only sent Tim a few emails demanding an explanation and generally expressing his surprise over the information. It had, if anything, opened up a dialogue between the two friends again that made Jason more glad than it did jealous. 

Just because he’d found Tim (even if Babs had apparently found him first and instead of telling him like a normal person, just sent him to Tim and surprised the hell out of both of them), didn’t mean he could monopolize the kid’s social life. It was really good that they were talking again. Even if it was a relationship that didn’t really leave a lot of room for Jason, he thought he could be content just being their friend. 

Since friends weren’t something he’d had in awhile either.

Beside him, Ives shifted closer on the bed to lay down beside him. Jason stirred at the movement enough to put an arm around the gangly teen, holding him there. The teen relaxed against his body and cuddled close, which just aided Jason in feeling even more content. He resumed watching the movie through his lashes until he began to drift off again, this time not fighting it as much. 

He next stirred, he thought it was only a few minutes later, when fingers brushed his hair back. Remembering instantly where he was and still feeling content, his mind settled for the first time in ages, he merely gave the teen in his arms a short squeeze in response. He didn’t want to wake and leave this feeling. 

In fact, he didn’t remember ever feeling this good. Jason thought he could get used to it remarkably fast. 

When he felt lips press softly against his own, it was perfectly natural then for him to respond, returning the kiss sleepily. Lazy, sleepy kisses were going to quickly shoot to the top of his list if they always felt _this good_. 

The body in his arms shivered and shifted enough to wrap both arms securely around the person he was sharing a bed with. The other man only cuddled closer in response, and Jason wanted him as close as he could get him. He moaned and shifted Ives gently on the bed until the teen was pressed beneath him into the mattress. 

Pressed beneath his weight, the teen didn’t fight him, emitting a gasp into their kiss, and the sound went straight to his groin. The rest of Jason still felt remarkably content and sleepy, which wasn’t a deterrent at all for his penis, which filled and began to grow hard. Being sleepy and content just made Jason unwilling to fight it. 

He opened his eyes just to glance at Ives’ face, to note that he was smiling, and Jason felt no shame in happily grinding his growing erection into the teen’s slim hip. It twitched in excitement and Jason moaned into their kisses, feeling the pleasurable friction even with their clothes on. 

“Ives,” he moaned between kisses, and the teen hummed as if in answer, cupping the back of Jason’s neck as though to hold him in place. 

Not that Jason had any plans to leave. He took this as permission and reached down between them, opening his jeans and letting his throbbing erection out of the confining material. Then he pushed Ives’ sweatpants and underwear down enough to his slim thighs, then proceeded to grind against the teen’s bare hip, which felt much better. He was too sleepy to think about anything as complicated as lube and condoms, so grinding was fine. Grinding was excellent right now, Jason decided, and gripped Ives’ hips as he moved. 

Ives was panting softly against his ear. “Jase…”

Jason lifted his head enough to smile down at him, brushing Ives’ own ginger hair out of his eyes. He slowed his grinding enough to respond, sounding as breathless as the teen. “Yeah?”

Ives’ pale fingers came up, brushing against his scruffy cheek lightly. 

He was smiling still, so Jason figured nothing was wrong. He turned his head, kissing and nuzzling the hand petting his face, while his hands rubbed circles into the slender hips beneath his own. Jason wasn’t really thinking about much, other than he wanted to resume moving soon, and if the friction wasn’t enough to bring Ives pleasure, he’d do something to make him feel good too. 

Jason was a good lover. Maybe he wasn’t as good at the sex portion--he’d had no complaints but no one had actually ever said, “Hey, you with the sex, you were awesome”--but he could be good at the other stuff. 

Ives whimpered. “We shouldn’t,” the teen said finally.

Jason finally came awake, the sleepy fog that had shrouded his mind with such contentedness fleeing abruptly at Ives’ words, which did wonders in also calming down his throbbing erection. 

Then he remembered _Tim_ and that was like dumping ice water on his length. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he apologized miserably, climbing off of Ives and getting his penis back in his pants. 

The teen sighed and sat up, reaching down to pull up his own pants. “Don’t apologize, I started it.”

He was obviously as miserable as Jason felt, which struck him like a blow. Jason had not meant to hurt his friend, he just hadn’t been thinking too clearly. Or at all. So that, and remembering Ives’ words about no one wanting him for things about himself that he couldn’t help, had Jason leaning back in. 

He cupped Ives’ face and kissed him softly. “You both deserve way better,” he told the teen sincerely, because to him it was the truth. 

“Stop saying that,” Ives murmured.

Jason got up and turned away. Letting Ives see him vulnerable was one thing, but he didn’t want the teen to see him hurting. “I’ll see you, okay?”

“... Yeah,” Ives answered with great reluctance, as if not believing him.

Jason didn’t believe himself either, but he’d done enough to fuck things up lately. He just didn’t deserve to be around _people_ for awhile, let alone to have friends. “You should talk to Tim,” he said, rather than admit his cowardice, and because he still saw no reason they couldn’t work things out. They deserved happiness.

Then he fled, not waiting for a reply, and managed to evade Ives’ parents on the way out. They would likely be relieved not to have to see him for awhile. 

-

It was raining hard that afternoon and, while it wasn’t remarkable for Tim to have days where no customers came through the shop door (nor was it a concern), with the rain pouring such as it was, he thought it was unlikely for his luck to change that day. So he was preparing to close up the shop for the day anyway, when someone actually came rushing through his door. 

The person had on a hoodie and a dripping umbrella as their only protection against the weather. Thankfully, the person did not shake out their wet umbrella all over his poor books, and merely tied it up and rested it beside his door.

Tim eyed the sodden figure, who aside from the umbrella, was not dripping too much on his floor. He couldn’t make out their face due to the hood, and that combined with their sudden entrance had Tim reaching slowly under the counter for his bo staff. He was retired and his reaction time was a little slower than it used to be, but the cramped space in the shop would likely work in his favor in that regard. The person would have to work hard to get a clear shot, if he had a weapon of his own, and by the time he pulled it out of his hoodie, Tim would already have him down on the floor. 

Retired or no, he was still Ro--he was still a Bat. That didn’t just go away because his title had been stolen. Jason Todd proved that much. 

“If you’re here to rob me,” Tim announced, because he felt the kid deserved a fair warning, despite the circumstance, “I’m warning you now, it won’t be that easy.” 

The person stared at him a moment longer before the hoodie was pushed back. Tim’s hand tightened on the bo staff until he recognized the face, then his grip loosened and he almost dropped his weapon of choice on the floor. Like a rookie, part of his mind cursed himself, but most of it was occupied solely on who had walked into his shop.

“Who the hell robs a bookstore?” Ives asked, shaking out his damp hair and looking at Tim from across the shop with faint amusement. 

Tim might have responded with something like, ‘You’d be surprised’ had this been a normal meeting between them. But it wasn’t normal, because Tim had gone out of his way to make meetings with people he knew _not normal_ anymore. So all he could manage was to choke out the other boy’s name. “Ives.”

“In the flesh,” Ives confirmed, as if he needed to, and gave a little wave of his hand. “Hey.”

Well this wasn’t awkward at all. Tim was so not ready for this. Trading emails or allowing his friend to convince him to sign on instant messenger were one thing, but a face to face meeting wasn’t something he had prepared for. All he felt was panic and he didn’t even know why exactly. He just struggled to get his breathing and heart rate under control. 

“Hey,” he managed. 

Ives was eyeing him, and had yet to move away from the door. “You’re upset,” the other boy noted. 

“I’m… surprised,” Tim corrected, breathing in through his nose and out of his mouth, which probably did nothing to assuage Ives from believing he was upset. 

“Mm.” The sound conveyed Ives’ heavy scepticism, but rather than commenting on it out loud, he only said, “We need to talk.”

Tim felt a fresh wave of panic and continued to focus on his breathing exercise rather than respond right away, leaving Ives to wait for a few seconds longer than he might have normally. He had heard those words before, and the first time Ives said them, it had caused a similar panic. But at least then, Tim hadn’t already been fighting a panic attack. 

He swallowed and breathed a simple, “Oh,” in response. 

Ives’ eyes were filled with concern, but again he didn’t draw attention to what Tim was likely not doing a good job at hiding. “Need any help closing up?”

“Sure.” Tim swallowed again and managed to sound halfway normal. “Flip the sign and lock the door?”

Ives nodded and turned out to do just that, turning the _We’re Open_ side of the sign to face inside and sliding the locks into place. 

Those weren’t the only safeties in place, which Tim took a second to turn on while hiding his actions by turning most of the shop lights off. He left on one so that they could still see enough to get upstairs. Even if it hadn’t been so dark outside due to the storm, he would have had to do this anyway, as even during the daytime the shop kept out most of the light. 

Wordlessly, Ives followed him up the stairs. He was less embarrassed for Ives to be up here than he had Jason some weeks ago, as after that incident, when Jason seemed intent to keep visiting, Tim had begun to have a little more interest in cleaning up after himself. 

Even though Jason had never said a word about the mess, or anything else about his living there. The man wasn’t that dense and Tim realized, full well, that Jason said nothing out of consideration for what he was going through. For which he was grateful, but he didn’t believe for a second that Ives would behave similarly.

That had been a large part of their problems while dating, but he didn’t blame Ives. He’d only been concerned. 

At the very top of the stairs was a tiny kitchenette, and once Tim was there, he went straight for the stove to put on the kettle, adding fresh water and turning the stove on. Then he cleaned up after the little mess he made earlier that morning, throwing away the old tea bag and getting a fresh one, giving himself something to do to help calm his nerves. 

“What’s wrong?” Ives asked from behind him, stepping slowly into Tim’s kitchen.

Of course, nothing he did to hide his nervousness would do any good, because Ives knew him too well. He could see right through any guise that Tim could try to present. 

So he didn’t. 

“Nothing,” he answered, which was of course not the entire truth, and he could see in Ives’ expression that he didn’t believe it either. “Fine,” Tim amended and began to list the reasons for his current panic. “You found me and showed up without warning. You came wanting to talk. Jason was supposed to come by for lunch but I haven't seen or heard from him in days. Batman and Robin had to leave town on some big thing with the Justice League, and even though I'm still mad at them, I'm worried. From what I’ve been able to figure out, their current business sounds serious.”

And Tim wasn’t there to help. He would also not be there to see his friends fall in battle. Thinking that, he wasn’t sure if it was a benefit or not, and it definitely didn’t help his nerves. 

“Ah,” Ives said. “Well, Jason is what we need to talk about.”

“Oh?” Tim realized his voice was a little high and cleared his throat, trying to sound normal. He got down two clean teacups from the cupboard. “I might have some Zesti in the ‘fridge if you’d rather?”

He glanced over his shoulder, but Ives only shook his head, waiting for him to finish what he was doing. 

When the water was hot enough, he poured a fresh pot, the learned actions helping him relax because they were familiar and easy. So after accomplishing this task and bringing the cups to the table for them to share, helped Tim begin to feel that he had some control over the situation. 

Ives took the only other seat at the small table. “Promise not to freak out?”

Tim glanced up at his concerned expression before he stirred some milk into his tea. “I promise to try not to,” he said, because that was the best he could do at the moment. 

“Fair enough.” Ives sat up, squaring his shoulders, like he was the nervous one among them. “I'm pretty sure Jason didn't come because he feels guilty.”

Tim blinked at this, confused. “Because I freaked out at him the other day?” He assumed that since Jason and Ives were talking, his friend would know about what happened, and that was why he was here now. “I didn't... I wasn't _that_ upset.” 

Tim thought back to that afternoon, picking apart his actions, wondering if he had said or done something to make Jason think he didn’t want him around. His silence might have given that impression, he realized belatedly.

Across from him, Ives’ cheeks flushed. “He was worried he upset you. He came to talk to me about it and we... may have ended up making out.”

Tim stared at him and the embarrassed flush spreading darker on Ives’ face. Not too long ago, he would’ve loved making Ives blush like that. Since, as it turned out, Sebastian Ives had a bit more experience than he did in regards to time spent occupying a bed with someone else. (“Or against a wall, or on the floor,” he still remembered Ives telling him, gleefully, because Tim had been parts shy and interested through that whole conversation.) Enough to know what he wanted, and it was an actual relationship, which it had turned out that Tim could, once again, not provide. 

Tim had even figured that going in, it would be all too likely for him to fail. But things had felt so _right_ with Ives, and despite knowing how awful it could be when it ended, it hadn’t stopped Tim from wanting it so very badly. Even being on better terms afterwards with Ives than he was with his other exes, didn’t make it hurt any less. It wasn’t the failure that weighed on him so heavily, though, it was just the loss. 

Tim looked down at his teacup, gazing into the liquid inside, and swallowed. “Oh.”

“It was stupid, I know, I'm sorry,” Ives breathed out quickly, most likely sensing that Tim was upset.

He was but that wasn’t really the point, he tried to tell himself. “It's fine, Ives. You deserve to be happy.” And Tim was going to be happy that Ives had found someone, he told himself firmly. He really was. 

“Oh no, no way.” At the change in tone, Tim glanced up to see his frown. “We're not doing this. Not after all the work I’ve put in, not after having to listen to you both moon over each other. He wants you, you want him.” Ives took a deep breath. “There, I said it. Now you know.”

Tim raised his eyebrows, his confusion growing. “But you're together now.”

Ives’ expression didn’t change. “We’re not.”

“But…”

“No.” Ives pointed his finger at Tim sternly. “He wants you, Tim.” 

Tim looked down at his cup again, not sure what to think, but his panic was still not as great as his confusion. 

Jason couldn’t want him, it made no sense. Jason had only stopped being angry about Tim replacing him recently, even if the man had truly never hated him, as he claimed. It didn’t even matter that people he thought could never want him had actually wanted him all along--apart from Conner and Dick, no matter what Ives had to say on those two as well--there was just no way that Jason could want him as well. 

“Tim, I swear to the Force,” Ives growled, and Tim knew he was mad because neither of them invoked _The Force_ unless they meant serious business. “I will punch you and I won't even feel bad about it. I’m not wrong or making it up, or whatever it is going through your head right now. _Jason wants you too_.”

“It’s really complicated, Ives,” Tim said, still trying to wrap his head around the idea of Jason actually returning his feelings. 

“No, it’s really not complicated,” Ives said, his voice raising just below shouting, obviously frustrated with his answer. “You two idiots are _making_ it complicated. If you'd just kiss him already everything would be fine!”

Tim leaned back a little at the outburst. He had grown unused to loud noises. The loudest he heard was music coming in through his headphones or that nice, big laugh he could make Jason make sometimes. 

“Drink your tea,” he advised.

“Smack both your damn heads together,” Ives grumbled, picking up his cup and finally taking a cautious sip. 

Tim allowed him to drink, and to hopefully calm down. “I don't... really know if I'm at a good place right now,” he allowed, since he knew that his friend was only trying to help. “For a relationship.”

Ives sighed. “Why not?”

“Well, for one thing, I can’t seem to…” Tim motioned his hands expression toward the window, “go outside. The shop, I mean.” It was hard for him to admit, though possibly easier with Ives than it would have been a great many people.

Ives’ eyes widened. “You have agoraphobia?”

Tim shrugged, but he didn’t flinch at the word, for it had already been churning around in his mind. “I've tried to leave. I get panic attacks and don't get far. My groceries and everything are delivered from a service online.”

Ives’ surprise quickly morphed into another frown. “How long has this been happening?”

“Since I moved in,” Tim admitted.

“Not good.”

Tim could agree with that. “Yeah. So even if you're right and he is interested, I don't have a lot to offer right now.” Perhaps he was only feeling sorry for himself, admitting that, but it felt better to say it out loud. Potential relationships being set aside, he really did think he had a problem that he needed to work on.

“Then you should tell him rather than let him think he's not worthy,” Ives said gently.

Tim nodded sadly, because he knew that would be the right thing to do. It was just working up the courage to actually speak to Jason now that he knew how the man felt. “Okay.”

“If you asked him,” Ives added, his tone still gentle, “he’d wait for you.”

Tim shook his head. “I don't know if I could ask him to.” Nor did he feel that he deserved anyone to wait for him. 

Ives reached across the table to touch his hand, his voice still gentle. “Even if you didn't ask, if you just gave him a hint that you wanted him to or that he had a chance. He'd wait.”

Tim looked down at Ives’ hand, biting his lower lip as guilt churned in his stomach. He thought about all the ways it couldn’t be true, or all the ways it would probably go badly, because Tim knew how he was in relationships. _Ives_ knew how he was in relationships. 

How could he do what he’d done to Ives--and to Steph, Zo, and Ari before him--to Jason as well? Jason was getting his life together. He didn’t need Tim’s drama to deal with as well. 

“He loves you,” Ives added. “A lot.”

“He does?” Tim asked, looking back up.

Ives nodded, giving him a clearly exasperated look once again, but not quite so frustrated this time. “Of course he does, dummy.”

He studied Ives’ face. “He might love you too,” Tim suggested, not to be mean, but because he had to. “He kissed you.”

Ives flushed. “I kind of started it.”

That didn’t really dismiss Tim’s suggestion, but he let it go for the moment and smiled a little. “Was it good?” he asked instead, honestly curious.

Ives whimpered and buried his face in his hands. “Very good, yes. God, yes. You know how I like sleepy kisses? His are just--wow. All lips and tongue and scruff and very quick to lead to sleepy sex. He had me on my back with my pants down to my knees before I could react.”

Tim flushed at the mental image, and at the arousal the memory caused in Ives’ voice. “Bet you were gorgeous. My two gingers.”

As soon as he said it, Tim realized it was a mistake. Because the thought of them both belonging to him was far, far _too nice_. 

Ives’ face was still red when he pulled his hands away. “I’d show you if I could.”

“Sadly, I don't think Oracle has your place bugged yet. Pretty sure.”

“Yet?”

Tim shrugged and finished his quickly cooling tea before it could become room temperature. “She likes to know everything.”

“Well that's not creepy at all,” Ives replied with heavy sarcasm.

Tim rose and took his cup to the sink, to clean it later. “It is. I guess the novelty tends to wear off after awhile. Besides, I was a prepubescent stalker, I can't say much.”

“Humph.”

Tim turned back to give his friend a weak smile. “Sorry. Guess I still ended up dragging you into my crazy life.”

Ives looked away, and when he met Tim’s gaze again, he looked uncertain about what he had to ask next. “Is that why you didn't want to be serious?”

This was a conversation long due, but it didn’t make it any easier, even if it didn’t bring up as much panic as before. Tim had had time to prepare himself for this since learning about Jason telling Ives about things. 

(Which he was still a little miffed at Jason for, even if he really hadn’t told Ives anything about Tim personally.)

He left the sink and went to the tiny window in his kitchen, arms wrapping around himself in an awkward hug. When he didn’t answer right away, Ives remained silent as if content to wait him out. 

Tim eventually spoke. “I was as serious as I could be. Yeah. It wasn't fair to you.”

“I always figured it was that your dad didn't approve.”

Tim smiled sadly at his dim reflection in the window. “He didn't, but only because he could tell that you were different than my other dates.” It was true. Ives was different, and not because of his sex, or because he’d loved the girls any less. Their relationship had just felt different, in the best way possible. “So to keep him away from you, I might've threatened him.”

“You did?” Ives’ voice was surprised.

He kept his eyes gazing outside, though there wasn’t much to see due to the rain. “Yeah. I threatened to tell you everything. He did it once to me, you see, so he knew I meant it.” 

“... So you're family's why I broke up with you.”

Tim nodded silently. It felt like a weight was lifted to finally be able to admit it, if not vocally. He’d known he inadvertently hurt Ives when he hadn’t been able to tell him what the problem was, which left Ives with no choice, he felt, but to break things off and try to salvage their friendship. 

No matter how badly Tim wanted to explain, it hadn’t been just his secret to tell. There was an entire legacy to help maintain that should have been more important than his relationship with a boy. (Even though the boy in question meant the world to him.) 

“I couldn't ask you to choose between me and them,” Ives said. “Especially since I know you'd have chosen them.”

Tim looked at his friend again finally, hurt by his words. “Then you would’ve been wrong.” Maybe it was the choice he’d always made before, but that was again where Ives was different.

Ives nodded, looking back at him, eyes filled with sadness. “I'm sorry. I should have said something. I know your family's approval matters to you.”

His arms felt cold, and he rubbed at them, continuing to hug himself. “It did.” Once, their approval had meant a lot to him, which is why he’d kept things from Bruce and Dick as well. 

“I didn't want to take that away from you.” Ives stood and joined him in front of the window, arms coming around Tim in a warm embrace. “I’m sorry.”

Tim leaned into him, soaking in the other boy’s warmth as he leaned his forehead on Ives’ shoulder. “Now I don't have either.” Dick had made that much clear the last time they spoke.

“You still have me,” Ives correct him, cuddling him closer. “Friends forever, remember?”

Tim tightened his hold on Ives, wishing that that helped, that being Ives’ friend still should have been enough, but it really wasn’t. He’d known it wasn’t, and that was probably part of why Tim stopped speaking to him along with everyone else when he left. It wasn’t fair to Ives, none of it was, and Tim couldn’t keep clinging onto him when it was over. Or he’d lose Ives for good.

But it didn’t make him miss him any less, in a completely _not friends_ way. 

He wiped at his eyes and nose as moisture began to develop, and a knot formed in his throat. 

“Don’t cry,” Ives murmured, nuzzling his hair gently. 

Tim continued to hide his face. “Sorry. I miss you,” he choked out through the tightness and emotion in his throat. 

“Timmy,” Ives sighed in a way that made Tim want to cry harder, especially as his chin was nudged upward and a familiar, missed mouth met his own. 

Tim returned the kiss softly, and let the tears fall unhindered. He pressed as close as he could get to the other boy, trembling a little in both happiness and sadness. Happy to be kissing Ives again, to be in his arms, but sad because it wouldn’t last.

“Let’s lie down,” Ives suggested, breaking the kiss only briefly to speak, before quickly resuming. As if he had missed it just as much as Tim had.

Tim hummed in agreement and let Ives lead the way. The other boy walked backwards, and Tim tried to help him, but he was more intent on kissing the redhead senseless. So Ives almost tripped over the small steps that led up to the bedroom, and a few things scattered over his bedroom floor. 

He laughed softly between kisses, amused and holding Ives by his waist, so that he didn’t end up falling. That would definitely ruin the mood. 

Ives smiled when he giggled, as if it pleased him to hear Tim sound more cheerful, and pulled back as he almost tripped over one last thing beside the bed. 

“Sorry,” Tim said, using the break to wipe the last of the moisture on his face away. 

“S’okay,” Ives brushed the apology away easily and finally got them into the bed. It was placed in a small alcove up against a window, so it wasn’t a huge bed, which normally served Tim just fine because he would never be very big. 

On the other hand, Ives had to bend his long legs in order for them to both fit, and Tim was busy for the first few seconds cuddling close and not letting the redhead remove his shoes. 

Ives chuckled at his clinginess. “Come on, I know you don't want shoes on your covers.”

Tim almost told him that he didn’t care, but he let him go long enough to let him. 

“There we go.” Shoes removed, Ives settled into the bed with him, tangling his long legs together with Tim’s and somehow fitting them together in the small bed almost comfortably. 

Tim didn’t care as long as Ives stayed close to him. A happy noise crawled up his throat as he nuzzled and kissed his friend, basking in Ives’ attention. 

His kisses were returned warmly, and Ives’ hand slid up under Tim’s sweater and tee shirt, rubbing into his lower back. This, combined with the kisses and closeness, were enough to make him aroused. Tim had hardly even touched himself since the last time they’d had sex, so he wasn’t surprised about his quick response. 

He squirmed in Ives’ arms, making the redhead lift his head. Tim smiled, pleased, when Ives beamed down at him. 

His redheaded friend placed soft kisses upon his face and Tim sighed fondly at the affectionate gesture, not minding if Ives wanted to go slow. 

He definitely wanted this to last. 

“What’s that smile for?” Ives asked.

Tim pet Ives’ hair, brushing it away from his eyes as he realized that his mood shift must have reflected on his face. “Just thinking how much I missed this,” he admitted truthfully. 

“Mm, sorry?” Ives apologized as he nuzzled his smooth cheek against Tim’s own. 

“It was my fault.”

“Not.”

Tim sighed and cuddled close. He didn’t want Ives blaming himself. 

“Hey.” Tim allowed Ives to turn his face back toward his. “I'm the one who broke up with you. Remember?”

“You wouldn't have had to if I'd told you the truth,” Tim reasoned.

Ives bumped their noses together lightly. “Or I could have just trusted you.”

“It’s fine,” Tim said, and kissed him to silence more of Ives’ assurances. It really wasn’t Ives’ fault, anymore than Jason was at fault for anything he did under the Pit’s influence. 

Ives hummed and kissed him back, his hands moving down to Tim’s hips to rub circles into the skin peeking above the hem of his pants. 

Tim squirmed against him, letting Ives know that not only was he still easily responsive to his touch, but that he was willing for more. From the moan Ives emitted into the kiss, he thought his friend understood. 

“Tim,” Ives moaned, nipping his bottom lip gently as he reached for Tim’s pants, popping the button and opening his fly.

Tim lifted his hips up, arching, hoping Ives would take the hint, but all the other boy did was slide his hand into Tim’s pants and boxers. 

“Ives,” Tim whimpered in return as the boy’s hand wrapped around his penis, gripping it without hesitation. The touch was familiar and right on that part of his body, and Tim squirmed into it eagerly. 

“Missed you,” Ives told him between more soft kisses, and as he began to stroke him slowly, “missed this.” 

Tim whimpered more, his hips arching up into Ives’ touch. He didn’t care about being slutty or anything else, he just wanted this so bad. “Love you.”

Ives shivered against him in obvious arousal. “Tim…”

The smaller youth whimpered happily and squirmed beneath him, as Ives twisted his wrist and easily found a familiar rhythm that had Tim panting and mewing with every stroke. He turned his head to take another kiss, which Ives returned, deepening it as he slide his tongue into Tim’s mouth. 

Tim whimpered into his mouth as he continued to writhe. He didn’t last long with Ives’ sure grip bringing him off, and it had been too long. He came, quick and abrupt, somehow managing not to bite down on Ives’ tongue as he spilled into the redhead’s hand. 

When the last of his fluid was milked from him, he clung to Ives as he was cuddled close, not minding the mess he’d made, feeling content. He could clean it up later. 

Tim raised his head shyly. “Do you want me to…?”

Ives knew what he meant. “Whatever you want.”

Tim smiled shyly and slid down Ives’ body, lifting up Ives’ shirt as he moved down to place kisses and playfully nips on the freckled skin. 

His hair was petted as he reached Ives’ pants and unzipped them, opening his mouth and taking the familiar length into his mouth. It had taken a few times to grow accustomed to it, much to Ives’ amusement (and pain one time when Tim forgot about his teeth), due to the length. Like his hands, it wasn’t very thick, but it was long. 

Ives gasped once he was in Tim’s warm and wet mouth. He glanced up, smiling inwardly when he saw the redhead’s rapt expression, as if Tim were doing something truly amazing. 

“Tim…” Ives sighed, petting his hair more, his thighs shaking as if he were holding back from fucking Tim’s mouth outright. 

This just made Tim all the more pleased and he hummed in answer, sucking on his friend’s penis. He bobbed his head and did things with his tongue, having given Ives enough blow jobs to remember how the redhead liked it while managing not to choke himself. To add further to the sensations, he slid his hand between Ives’ legs and gently massaged his balls. They were full and soft in his hands as he palmed them fondly. 

Ives didn’t last much longer than he did, Tim noted with no small satisfaction, thinking that either Ives had gone just as long as he had without, or that he was just as good. Ives’ hips arching up were his only warning, but Tim decided to swallow his cum regardless, swallowing as much as he could as it flooded his mouth and throat. 

Tim didn’t let him go right away either and licked him clean afterwards, then nuzzled lightly against the pale, ginger pubic hair around his groin. 

The hand hadn’t stopped petting his hair the whole time, which was pleasing as well. “Oh…”

Tim looked up with a playful, cheshire smile, his cheek still resting against Ives’ groin. 

Ives smiled back at him fondly. “Same Tim.”

He hummed and finally moved back up Ives’ body so that they could kiss, letting the other boy taste himself on Tim’s tongue. 

“I hope that doesn't mean I'm predictable or boring,” Tim remarked, sounding breathless and a little hoarse from their activities. 

Ives hummed. “Mm, means you smile more and like having sex.”

“Oh.” The realization had Tim ducking his head in embarrassment.

Ives nuzzled him, holding him close. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said, and this time it was mostly true, “just didn't notice I was smiling.”

Ives’ fingers found his mouth and traced over his lips. “You were. Why do you look like it's a bad thing?”

“Because happiness doesn't last,” he murmured.

“No, it doesn't. That doesn't mean it isn't okay to enjoy it now.” He nudged the corner of Tim’s mouth lightly with his thumb.

Tim gave him a weak smile and snuggled close. He didn’t tell Ives how much worse it made the loneliness afterwards when it was over, or what a hole he felt inside now that they weren’t together. 

He was cuddled close, Ives’ limbs all relaxed and warm as he was held, their legs tangling together again. He focused on his touch, and his scent alone, pushing his thoughts away with breathing exercises (which were easier to do now). Contentedness drifted over him slowly until he was falling asleep in Ives’ embrace, both physically and emotionally drained. Happily so.

-

When Ives woke a few hours later, he felt like a real asshole.

He hadn’t meant to sleep, just to let Tim sleep, since he seemed to really need it. The poor guy probably hadn’t slept much since Jason stopped coming by. But his friend’s quiet breathing had lulled him into a restful sleep until a few hours later. 

Ives glanced over his shoulder out the window directly behind him. It was dark, but the rain and thunder seemed to have stopped. If anyone passing by had looked up a few hours before, unlikely during the storm, they probably would have gotten a little eyeful. Not that Ives cared particularly if anyone had. 

Tim might, but he was much shyer about sex than Ives was.

The light in the kitchen was still on, so he could dimly make out Tim’s sleeping face beside him. The sleeping face that _Jason_ should have been sleeping beside, but no, Ives had to go and get in bed with both of them within twenty-four hours. 

Ives had never been _this_ casual about sex before. This was not him, this craziness was not his life, and yet here he was. Nearly having sex with one friend and then actually sleeping with the other. 

It was like the worst thing. (Or possibly best thing, depending on your point of view.) The situation might not be entirely unsalvageable, the trouble was now that he knew the real reason behind Tim’s behavior while they were dating, it changed things. 

He still had feelings for Tim, and he would have been fine just being his friend. Ives could have lived with that, he really believed that. But faced with Tim’s feelings for him seeming to be just as strong, he wasn’t sure what to do. Should he do the selfless thing, or should he break Jason’s heart?

Which he also didn’t want to do, absolutely not, because--and here was the unbelievably fucked up portion of Ives’ psyche at the moment--he also had strong feelings for Jason. 

He knew he loved them both, because they were his friends. He hadn’t known Jason as long, but in the weeks where Jason had been coming to his house--and one time on campus with lunch--Ives had relaxed easily around him. Jason, when he wasn’t brooding, was fun and easy to talk to. When he _was_ brooding, was so adorably clueless and sweet, and when Ives didn’t want to hit him, he wanted to get him to shut up by kissing him.

Which was remarkably close to his feelings for Tim, but lacking the comfortable familiarity of that he had, knowing Tim practically all their lives. 

Ives sighed and reached out to pet Tim’s hair. Entertaining the idea of being with either of them was nice but of course that wasn’t what he was going to do. He was going to do the unselfish thing. He would let Tim decide what he wanted to do. 

Knowing Tim as well as he did, he was probably just as confused as Ives was. So he would be patient and wait it out, then he would smile when Tim chose Jason and throw them a freaking party or something, because he was an _amazing_ friend. (Though he reserved the right to tease them about wanting a homemade sex tape.)

Even if he was kind of an asshole and didn’t regret one second with Tim today. It might make him a bad person, but he wouldn’t deny how he felt if asked. 

Tim slept on, likely because he was so exhausted, and Ives continued watching him until he drifted back off. 

Whatever was decided, it could wait until the morning. For now, he could hold Tim, feel his skin and warmth again, smell his scent, and tomorrow he could be a much better person than he was being tonight. 

He would also find Jason sometime, apologize, and hope he took it well. Remembering Tim’s comments about the man’s temper and fist like a brick, maybe he would wait until the two of them were already together before he groveled for forgiveness. 

-

It was still cloudy the next morning, but it was just light enough outside to stream through the window and wake Tim from his slumber. He reached out blindly behind him, not even opening his eyes to try to find the curtain and tug it closed. He was warm, comfy, and loved, so Tim really had no qualms about spending a lazy day in bed. 

He was still trying to tug the curtain closed when there was a sleepy, throaty chuckle near the area of his forehead, and the body holding him tightened just a little. 

“Good morning,” greeted Ives softly, sounding remarkably more cheerful than Tim felt.

Tim whimpered and gave up on the curtains, wrapping his arm back around Ives and snuggling close, face pressed firmly against Ives’ chest. He couldn’t do anything but breathe in the other boy’s scent like this, his nose squished into Ives’ shirt, but Tim didn’t mind at all. 

“Shh, it’s not morning yet,” Tim said, voice muffled. 

“Yeah, it is.” “Shh. Ignore it, pretend it’s not there.”

“It’s there. I mean, there are clouds, but it’s totally there.”

“Nope,” Tim refused. 

A hand began petting his hair, smoothing it down in comfortable strokes, which made Tim feel relaxed, as if tension was melting out of his body from the touch. “It’s morning, Timmy. And as fantastic last night was, now we have more things to talk about.”

Tim groaned tiredly, all the tension flooding back in a flash, and he just wanted to keep his face buried in Ives’ shirt so he didn’t have to think about anything. “Can we just skip it?”

“That’s not very fair to Jason,” Ives noted mildly. 

Tim winced and made himself sit up, though he really didn’t want to. “No, it’s not,” he agreed sincerely, looking at Ives’ face finally.

His friend looked tired, but in a well rested way, and just as guilty as Tim felt. 

“He really likes me?” Tim asked softly, because he was still having trouble believing that. It just seemed so impossible--not Jason Todd of all people. Had things turned out differently, the man would’ve never known Tim existed. Tim knew he wasn’t that remarkable, and he was even more uninteresting now since becoming a shut-in. But Jason was remembering and becoming the amazing person that Tim once took so many photos of from afar. That person was certainly never supposed to know Tim, let alone like him. 

Ives rolled his eyes sleepily. “He _loves_ you, Tim. As in deeply with the puppy dog eyes and wanting you to be happy. He’d put your happiness above his own, if you let him. Christ, Tim, he thinks we should get back together.”

The hand in his hair resumed petting and Tim felt a twinge of sadness and uncertainty, those words bringing a new dilemma to the forefront of Tim’s mind. He had no idea what to do about this new information about Jason possibly loving him. He had no idea what to do about Ives still loving him. 

This had happened to him once before, when Tim had to choose between Arianna and Steph. He still wasn’t sure how he’d gotten into that situation. Dick would talk to him like he was some budding Casanova and his relationship advice had often been incredibly unhelpful. No matter how long he’d spent playing the part, Tim was so much _not like Dick_. 

So Tim wasn’t sure how he kept getting into these situations. It was absurd, given how bad he was at relationships (and at dealing with people in general), that he’d been in out of them since he was _thirteen_. 

It was ludicrous on so many levels and went against everything Tim thought about himself. He wasn’t the person that people were supposed to love.

Yet here he was again. 

Ives seemed to know where the direction of his thoughts were going in, because he rolled his eyes, smiled, and kept petting Tim’s hair. “Stop brooding, you’re attractive as hell and a fantastic human being. You’ve done so much for this city, most of whom don’t deserve it, things that I still don’t know about 100%. You _lost your spleen_ for this crappy city.”

Tim flushed and ducked his head. He hadn’t been aware that Ives knew about that. He hadn’t been aware that _Jason_ knew about it, but he didn’t know how else Ives could have found out. “It’s regrown now,” he mumbled.

“Thank god for that at least,” Ives sighed, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

The gesture didn’t make Tim feel any easier, not as it flooded him with warmth and affection. Ives had always been incredibly affectionate, more so than Steph (who had also been pretty affectionate with him at times, despite his supposed cluelessness). Ives was just even more willing to touch and connect. At first, Tim worried he would find it cloying and annoying, but he’d grown quickly addicted to it. 

Then he missed it when it was gone.

Ives’ fingers rubbed into the back of his skull, finding a knot of tension there and rubbing into it. “What do you want, Tim?”

Tim blushed at the question. “Want?” he echoed, trying not to panic all over again.

“Yeah, want. You know how Jase and I feel about you. I’m gonna leave it up to you to decide, and I’m positive that Jason will feel the same.”

Tim hadn’t stopped thinking about it, but he just felt so confused. Setting aside how absurd this was to actually be happening to him, he didn’t know what to do. It was horrible, but he couldn’t choose. He didn’t want to. 

His feelings for Jason went way back and had never faded. The love he had for Ives was newer, but no less strong. He knew how good things could be with Ives if he didn’t manage to screw it up again (which he wasn’t too sure that he wouldn’t). But if Jason really was in love with him, he didn’t want to hurt the taller redhead. Tim had become dependant upon Jason’s lunch visits, talking to him about anything (but never things Tim found uncomfortable) and laughing at Taco’s antics.

Ives rubbed circles into his back, looking at him with concerned eyes. “It’s okay, Tim. Breathe, no panicking. This isn’t something to panic over.”

“I don’t want to hurt either of you,” Tim told him, feeling wretched. 

Ives smiled sadly. “I know, but one of us will be. That’s okay. We’ll both still be your friends.”

“Even Jason?” he asked sadly.

“I’m sure. Unless I’ve entirely misjudged his character, which I don’t think I have. Whatever he did in the past, he’s a good guy. He’ll pull through no matter what you decide.”

Tim shook his head miserably. “I just don’t know what I want, Ives. I love you both.”

Ives continued rubbing his back. “You don’t have to decide now, Timmy. Jase and I can wait. Just make the choice that’s best for you. Don’t worry about us and just focus on what you want.”

He realized Ives was only trying to help, but how could he possibly decide what he wanted when he knew that it would hurt one of them? When he didn’t know how he could ever choose between the two loves of his life?

“Shh.” Ives kissed his forehead again. “You’ve got time to decide. Breathe.”

Tim closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, quietly going through breathing exercises as Ives rubbed his back and waited him out. 

“I should probably go,” Ives eventually said, sitting up.

Tim couldn’t help the sad noise that crawled up his throat. 

Ives winced at the sound. “I know, sorry. I don’t want to leave you, but I should give you space to think. You’ll talk to Jason when you see him next? You won’t chicken out?”

The brunet shrugged in answer. It would depend on what Jason had to say when he came back. Not that he was mad about Jason almost having sex with Ives--that would be beyond hypocritical, considering. 

But if Jason came to him confessing his feelings, Tim only knew that he would be able to answer with his own. He wouldn’t have an answer for either of them for some time, he decided. If he ever did, and that was not fair to either boy. Eventually they would grow tired of waiting, he was sure. 

At least if they were waiting, a dark part of his mind thought, then neither of them would be hurt. 

Tim realized that thought was also pretty selfish. Of course it wasn’t that simple. It was all the more likely that waiting would hurt both Ives and Jason. He just didn’t know what else to do. 

It was too difficult to chose and he couldn’t imagine feeling differently, no matter how long he had to wait and think about it. 

In the end, he allowed Ives to slide out of bed, and offered up the use of his shower even though his friend didn’t have a change of clothes. Tim allowed him to borrow a fresh shirt, but his pants would just be too short for Ives’ long legs. 

Tim glanced kept glancing at his bed while Ives showered, trying to straighten up his room a little bit and get his mind off his thoughts. It didn’t help, as he called up images from the night before, and how Ives barely fit in his small bed. 

He had no idea how Jason would ever fit in it. 

Tim shook his head and went to put on coffee for them. 

After coffee and a small breakfast, which they shared in mostly silence, Tim followed Ives downstairs. He didn’t feel like opening up the shop today, so he planned to lock the door after Ives left. 

Except when he opened the door to let his friend out, there stood Jason Todd, his hand raised as he prepared to knock on the old wood. 

On the ground by his feet, was a carrier, a litter box, and a bag of supplies. Inside the carrier was an unhappily mewling kitten, who probably did not care at all for the cold air that his owner had dragged him out into that morning.

“Jase?” Tim asked, confused, when Jason didn’t say anything at first.

The man was glancing between the two of them, teal eyes wide until they grew troubled. And hurt. “Oh. I guess this is a bad time, sorry.”

“No, it’s not,” Ives said, reaching out to take hold of Jason’s thick arm. “I was just leaving.” 

Jason glanced pointedly at Ives’ neck. “Yeah?”

That was when Tim noticed it and flushed brightly. There was a small, pink hickey mark on Ives’ neck. It must have made it all too obvious what they had gotten up to the night before. 

Ives nodded as if he had no idea what his neck looked like. “Yeah. What’s up? Why have you got Taco’s stuff with you? This isn’t how you normally go out to lunch, is it?”

Jason shook his head and, though he looked incredibly reluctant to do so, he allowed Ives to drag him into the shop. For a few seconds, he and Tim were left alone, standing together while Ives went out to get Taco’s carrier and the other items, and the two of them just looked at each other. 

Tim thought that Jason must have felt as shy as he did, which was a change. He’d gotten used to seeing Jason’s smile and he missed it. Of course, it was his own damn fault that the smile wasn’t present. 

He was so bad at relationships. 

“Okay,” Ives said, once he was done bringing everything inside and shutting the door. “What’s going on, Jase?”

Jason faced Ives as if it were easier to look at him than at Tim. “I need to leave town.”

“What?” Ives’ frown deepened. “No, no, absolutely not. You’re _not_ running away. I didn’t work so hard trying to get you two together for it to all go--” 

Jason held up a hand, and he finally smiled, though it was a ghost of his usual one. “While I don’t blame you for thinking that, I’m not having a freak out. It’s a mission.” 

Dread erased the panic inside of Tim. “The same one Dick and Damian are on?”

Jason looked at him again, nodding, his voice soft and gentle as he answered. “Yeah. Babs wants me to go and--I just can’t say no to Babs. Never could, but especially not now after all she’s done for me. She’s worried about Dick so I’m gonna be his and the demon’s backup, whether he likes it or not. Besides, the Titans might get involved too if the League needs help, and that means Sasha will be there.”

Tim nodded. He knew that Jason cared for Sasha like a sibling. But he still had to quell the urge to beg Jason not to go. 

Jason looked away for a moment, and when he looked back, there was such an incredible look of vulnerability in his gaze. “So I was hoping you could watch Taco for me?” 

“Of course,” Tim answered without thought. 

“How long will you be gone?” Ives asked, his voice lowering to match theirs. 

They didn’t whisper because they feared to be overheard, but it seemed appropriate for how serious this was. 

“Dunno,” Jason told him. “A few weeks probably.”

“Jesus,” Ives hissed, crossing his arms. “What about Park Row? All your hard work…”

Jason reached out and mussed Ives’ hair lightly. “The ladies are supposed to be looking in on it for me, so it’ll be in good hands. Not really sure they approve of my methods of peacekeeping, but they’ve promised not to start any trouble, just make sure the gangs behave.”

Tim nodded. He was familiar with this plan, because it was the same one Jason had before and one he’d once implemented himself. The idea was to bring all the gangs together for one cause or banner, then have them police the newly aligned turf. Like when Tim had done it after Ulysses Armstrong became the new Anarchy, Jason was using the approach that involved less violence on his part. (Though to convince some of the rowdier gangs who didn’t know his reputation had involved a little violence, from what Tim could gather from the reports of Babs’ he’d hacked into.)

“There’s nothing we can say to convince you not to go?” Ives asked sadly, and Tim was reassured to see his friend just as unhappy about this development. 

Jason, hand still on Ives’ head, smiled and tugged him into an embrace. “Nope, but I appreciate you asking. Take care of Tim?”

Ives’ cheeks turned red and, still in Jason’s arms, he nodded. “I will. Even if I can’t get out here every day, I’ll write and text him. Make sure he’s eating.”

Tim blushed as they both gave him meaningful looks. “I eat,” he argued. 

“Mm-hm.” Jason let Ives go and turned to him fully. “And you take care of Ives. Make sure he doesn’t spend all his time studying. He needs break times too.”

“That’s what gaming is for,” Ives said before Tim could respond.

Tim smiled fondly. “We could also play online.” He and Ives used to do it often when he was still in school, but as Robin took more and more focus in his life, he hadn’t had time. 

“Good,” Jason said. “Socialization of some kind, that’s all I ask.”

“You’re one to talk Mr. I think I’ll spend the night with my adorable kitten,” Ives joked, though gently.

Jason laughed, and as if on cue, Taco began to yowl at them sorrowfully. He bent down to gently pick Taco up out of the carrier, holding the kitten in his large hands. “And you be good and take care of both these guys, okay? Good baby.” 

He pressed a kiss to the kitten’s small head before gently handing him over to Tim. 

Tim held him close to his chest. “We’ll be okay,” he mumbled, unsure how to reassure Jason, who was obviously going to be worrying about them. 

“Good,” Jason said and he stepped closer, arms slowly coming up. 

Tim was given plenty of time to move away, he realized, but he stood there and allowed the hug to happen. He couldn’t help being stiff at first, though the hug was loose and he could step away whenever he wanted. Tim took a deep breath and, Taco still against his chest, he rested his forehead on Jason’s muscular chest. 

His frame was closer to Bruce’s, lacking the slimness of Dick’s acrobatic frame. But his hug didn’t feel like Dick’s, or the incredibly rare ones he remembered getting from Bruce. (In fact, Bruce was more likely to hold him after Tim was hurt, carrying him home, and so Tim didn’t remember them too much.)

“I should be going,” Jason whispered into his hair. 

“Be careful,” Tim said, wishing that he could just throw on his uniform and go with him. For one thing, he didn’t have it anymore, it was back at the manor. For another, he probably wouldn’t get far if he tried to leave the shop before having another panic attack. 

He couldn’t go with him, and he couldn’t ask him to stay. No matter how much he wanted to do both. 

“Hey, it’s me,” Jason replied, grinning down at him. 

Tim raised an eyebrow at him meaningfully. He glanced at Ives, who had a similar look on his face.

“Oh my god, no,” Ives said. “Don’t be you, just be careful and come back to us.”

Us. Tim blushed because that sounded _so right_. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like either of the other two noticed. 

Jason grinned at Ives, his arms finally letting Tim go. “I’ll do my best.”

“You better,” Ives told him firmly. 

Jason left a few minutes later, once he and Ives ran out of ways to tease one another. Tim leaned back against the counter and watched the shorter redhead, who seemed suddenly unwilling to leave the shop. 

“So this is Taco,” Ives said, coming closer.

Tim cuddled the little kitten gently. Taco was looking around as if he didn’t know what was going on and gave another unhappy mew. “Mm-hm.” 

“Lemme help you get this stuff upstairs,” Ives offered.

They got the litter box and the cat’s other belongings up to Tim’s living space, talking about how he would need more food once the bag ran out, and probably a second litter box for downstairs. Taco hid in his bedroom for awhile, and after both boys gave up trying to lure him out, they ended up sitting on the bed and playing Portal co-op until it was time for dinner and the kitten finally ventured back out. They watched him skittishly explore the apartment while they ate, then hide again once Ives decided he should finally go home. 

“I think two nights in a row would make my parents worry,” Ives said. “No matter how much I assured them I’m not running away from home.”

“It’s okay,” Tim murmured, wrapping his arms around himself. 

Ives smiled and leaned in to give him a light, sweet kiss. “Don’t look so sad. I’ll be online tonight if you wanna chat or play Old Republic. Or something. And I’ll come by with a second litter box after my classes are over.”

“You don’t have to,” Tim told him guiltily. “I can order one.” 

“This way’s faster than the post.”

“I can overnight it.”

“Nope. Save your money.” 

“I have plenty of money.”

“Oh my god, stop.” Ives kissed his forehead, then his nose, as if he were reluctant to part too. “Okay, I need to go. Try not to worry.”

Tim gave him a look. Of course he was going to worry about Jason.

Ives sighed. “Okay, fine. I’ll just have to try to keep you busy until he gets back. Because _he’s going to come back_.”

“That’s what I thought too when Robin went to Ethiopia,” Tim muttered darkly.

“Stop that. He’s not some kid anymore, he’s big tough dude who is secretly in control of all the gangs in Gotham.” Ives gave him one last kiss and then finally went to the door. “He’s going to be fine.”

“I hope so,” Tim said, closing the door after him and sliding the lock into place. 

TBC. 


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six: 

-

The next few weeks passed considerably more peacefully. 

Tim kept up with the news and he worried, no matter how much Ives tried to distract him, and he really did. His friend came to the shop often, as promised, but no more sex happened. They cuddled, if Tim had found out something mildly distressing about the current JL situation, or if Ives had a bad day at school. Or just if they felt like it, which was also nice. He usually ended up reading or playing with Taco while Ives did homework or told Tim about his classes. When Ives didn’t come to the shop, they spoke online well into the late hours of the evening. 

He sold a few rare books, smiling fondly every time Taco went to hide when someone new entered the shop. The kitten didn’t take up too much of his time, all things considered. Tim made a little ‘cave’ in the book tower for him to crawl into, and Tim would usually have to pull Taco out and carry him upstairs when it was time to close up. In the mornings, Taco would venture downstairs all on his own, following Tim and taking one step at a time. Tim tried to play with him using cat toys he ordered online, but Taco usually found the cardboard boxes they came in far more interesting. The kitten also had a habit of trying to eat plastic and scotch tape, so Tim had taken to cleaning up after himself much more carefully. Inevitably, Taco would find whatever trash he had out otherwise. 

He was a bit like a Bat in that way.

He was growing as well, and so Tim made sure to take new photos to send to Jason, for when the man could occasionally check his email. 

Jason’s communications were sporadic. He’d had to leave his smartphone at home, so he couldn’t communicate that way, and disliked using the computers on the Watchtower. When he did get the chance to send a message, it was always longer than Tim expected, but had a lot of typos as if Jason didn’t have much time. He had a lot to say and tried to type as quickly as he could. 

Instead of being annoyed, Tim thought it was sweet. Obviously he would be too busy to proofread, but he still wanted to keep in touch. 

Jason didn’t ask about anything that had gone on the morning he left, or his feelings. The only thing that he wrote was that he knew they would have much to talk about when he returned, but hoped that Tim didn’t feel pressured to do so.

Tim still had no idea what he wanted to do. 

As he figured he wouldn’t. He couldn’t choose between them because he was in love with both of them. 

Though he and Ives weren’t officially dating again, things were better than before. He could tell Ives about things now that he couldn’t before, express worries and concerns he’d once had to keep hidden. Ives seemed happier than when they dated previously and Tim kept so much hidden. Even if he was waiting for Tim’s answer, he didn’t appear to mind or to be worrying what his choice would be. 

Tim knew how much better it was to tell the truth. He never enjoyed lying to people, especially someone he was dating. It had just become a terrible necessity. Honesty was so much better, though. 

Jason’s emails usually asked how he was doing, as well as Ives and Taco. They contained narratives on his day, little anecdotes or jokes that had Tim smiling at his computer screen enough that his mouth felt sore afterwards. Jason also brushed off the serious things like it was no big deal, clearly not wanting Tim to worry, and Tim thought it was all very sweet. 

In all, he couldn’t remember feeling so good since after Bruce returned and he reunited a second time with Conner. He’d finally figured out how to be this new hero, Red Robin, and he’d just begun his relationship with Ives. At the time, everything seemed more hopeful. 

It hadn’t lasted. Perhaps this wouldn’t either, so Tim planned to enjoy it while he could. 

The mornings were getting colder. He wore socks in addition to slippers when he got out of bed. Taco enjoyed the slippers, so they were a little more threadbear than before, but still good. 

He fed Taco first, because as he figured out, trying to eat first would be a lost cause otherwise. The kitten couldn’t get up onto the stove or counters (yet) but he would sit by Tim’s feet, or follow him around the kitchen, and yowl until he got his way. 

Then he had a cup of coffee or two and ate a small breakfast (sometimes Ives texted him a reminder). He could never stomach very much in the mornings, but he realized he felt better when he did. 

Taco would follow him downstairs, and as customers rarely came into the shop first thing in the morning, Tim had time to check his email and the news. (Both from news feeds and from hacking into the League’s database. It still had a lot of holes.) Sometimes, when he received emails from Jason, he would read some of it out loud to Taco as if the kitten would understand. The sound of his voice was probably not as familiar as Jason’s, but somehow talking to Taco made Tim feel better. 

Like he had a tangible part of Jason there with him. Jason had to return because he’d want to take Taco home. 

As sweet as the emails were, Tim would much rather have the man physically there. To give a goofy grin, snort his soda up his nose, and even to tease Tim until he blushed. Even if they had to talk about their feelings, Tim decided, he just wanted his other redhead to return safely. 

Tim brightened a little, seeing he had a new message from Jason that morning, along with the usually junk emails that he deleted before opening. 

_Tim,_

_You’ve probably heard from your own sources, but we’re starting to get the situation under control. Much rejoicing all around. But this kind of thing still isn’t for me. I’ve never liked it. Though I mean, it’s kind of incredible seeing familiar faces again. I’m not a real cape, just wearing my little domino, but this is actually the first time I’ve worked with most these guys and felt like I even mildly belonged._

_Kyle Rayner’s still a fucking jerk though. Dunno what Donna sees in him._

_Donna’s still amazing though. Hey, would you believe the same thing that resurrected me also brought her back? It’s funny how these things happen._

_Just sent a message to Babs to let her know that Dick still lives. (Even though he takes a lot of stupid risks. She so owes me.) Just waiting for the confirmation that my job is done and then I’m on my way back._

_Cutting it kinda short today, but I’ll see you guys soon._

_Love you._

Love you. Tim blushed furiously, so much that he could feel his ears grow warm, and stared at his screen. 

It was different than Ives telling him. Actually seeing the words. 

Tim closed plucked Taco gently off the laptop as the kitten started to venture on the keys. “Hey. Your papa said he loves me.”

Taco squeaked at him in complaint for being moved, but allowed himself to be placed in Tim’s lap and play with the human’s pale fingers. 

Tim couldn’t help the smile on his face. 

-

He had not been lying to Tim--his first time to the Watchtower was far more welcoming than Jason had expected. Either a memo was passed around alerting all the capes that he was sent by The Oracle, or that many people just were not aware of what happened in Gotham when Jason came back. Both were equally likely, but possibly the latter a little more than the former, because Bruce certainly did not like talking about anything personal. 

He certainly hadn’t expected to get along so well with Dick again. They had worked together a few times since Jason’s decision to reform, such as the incident with Killer Croc. Never for this long, however; even when Jason was a kid, he didn’t remember Nightwing sticking around Gotham long enough to work with him. 

If not for the multidimensional crisis crap, it would almost be a good time.

The Watchtower Satellite was both what he expected and wasn’t, in lots of ways. Sidekicks still weren’t allowed on, which is why during his career as Robin, he’d never had occasion to visit. (And he certainly hadn’t after coming back as Red Hood.) That wasn’t to say kids weren’t allowed, which had always struck him as strange. Kara had still been pretty young, but she’d never actually been Superman’s sidekick. Then there was Captain Marvel who actually was still a child, but was allowed to be a League member because his alter ego wasn’t. 

(And didn’t that just explain Captain Marvel’s boy scout attitude.)

So for a lot of reasons, Jason couldn’t get over how strange it felt to walk down the halls or the promenade. 

As he was doing now, with Dick Grayson at his side and talking about old times as though Jason had never put on the Batman suit and tried to kill his big brother. It didn’t seem normal but it was something close to natural about it. 

“So then I told Alfred I had frostbite on my balls. He didn't let me out to patrol for a week.”

Dick was smiling at his ridiculous story. “Alfred was always more protective than Bruce.”

They weren’t speaking too loudly, though the hallway they were walking down wasn’t well populated at the moment, and neither felt the need to use codenames right then. Besides, all those with super hearing already knew their names. 

“Oh yeah,” Jason agreed. “The best times, or I guess they could be the worst too, were when Alfred just did not take any of Bruce’s crap anymore.”

Dick was already nodding before Jason finished. “Bruce is the closest thing he’ll ever have to a son, so he gives him more leeway than the rest of us. But occasionally Bruce crosses some sort of line that Alfred’s drawn and he goes from sassy remarks to open chastisement. I think it surprises Bruce every time too.”

“Mm-hm.” Jason glanced out of the large windows that lined the hallway. He also wasn’t able to get over actually being in _space_. He’d crossed whole dimensions with Donna and Kyle, but it hadn’t quite been like this. He wished he could bring Tim and Ives up here to see it.

Thinking of them made Jason chuckle as another thought occurred to him. “And Tim is clearly the smartest one of us for starting the pants trend.” 

Dick’s smile immediately faded, as weird was it was to see someone dressed as Batman smiling at all. “Yeah, guess so…”

Jason stopped walking and eyed him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Dick answered a little too quickly. “Never mind.”

Jason frowned deeper and grabbed Dick’s kevlar covered arm before he could enter the mess hall. “Well it’s clearly not nothing. Is it about Tim?”

Dick wouldn’t meet his eyes. Not that it was easy to tell with the cowl over his face, but the face was pointed forward toward the large entrance that led to the mess hall. 

“Just... worried,” the second Batman said hesitantly.

“Why are you worried?” Jason asked, not letting it go.

Kevlar shoulders shrugged. “Haven’t seen him in awhile, that’s all. You said you found him but he hasn’t come home.”

Jason frowned at the white eyes of the mask that still wouldn’t look at him. “He’s not ready to see people.” He still didn’t know Tim’s reason for leaving and he certainly didn’t want Dick to know that, or he might go into big brother mode and try to find out why for himself. Tim didn’t need that right now. 

“He’s seeing you,” Dick pointed out with an obvious pout. 

“And his friend Ives,” Jason admitted, grudgingly, not knowing a reason why it needed to be hidden. He was not sure on what details Babs had allowed Dick to know. “That’s it.”

The cowl finally turned to focus on him. “So he _is_ seeing people.”

“Barely!” Jason let go of his arm to flail his hands in frustration, realizing belatedly he was subconsciously mimicking Ives. “He won't even leave his new home, says he gets panic attacks.” As soon as he said it, he realized he should have kept quiet about that, but it just slipped out before he could help it. He was certain that Tim wouldn’t appreciate that kind of information getting around. 

“Pathetic,” said a scathing, nasal voice near his elbow. 

Jason sighed and glanced down at the littlest Robin, who seemed to almost be growing every day. Little fucker was going to be as tall as Bruce, except with way more anger issues than Jason could ever dream of having. 

Like the little ninja he was, he had appeared out of nowhere, to do what he seemed to do best and antagonize everyone around him. 

“And I'm walking away now,” Jason said to no one in particular and turned to walk back the way he had come. 

“Just like Drake,” Damian seethed behind him.

He was going to ignore it. He really was. Barbara would have been so proud of him. Even the second comment, Jason had planned to just let it roll off him like water on a duck. Except there was a big teen standing there, blocking his path. 

Superboy, as he was still called despite his age and how he was only barely considered a boy, looked furious. It must have been the genetics, because a cross between Superman and Lex Luthor’s furious scowls was _not_ a happy sight. 

It was certainly enough to stop Jason in his tracks. 

_Then_ he remembered that the kid could puncture a hole into the reinforced clear metal windows that kept them all breathing and not sucked into the vacuum of space. 

Thankfully, that scowl was focused on Damian, and not himself, which Jason was mildly grateful for. He was still way close to what could be ‘ground’ zero for his liking. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Conner demanded. 

Damian smirked a mean little smug expression, like he was pleased to have gotten a rise out of someone. Nor did he seem to care that the someone he had pissed off could probably melt his brains from the inside. “That Drake is worthless and should never have been a member of our group.”

The growl that the half Kryptonian gave to that statement would’ve sent shivers down the spines of most disturbed patients in Arkham. 

“Robin,” Dick cautioned lowly, their conversation finally drawing the attention of other League members, as they stood in the middle of the hallway leading to the lunch room. 

Jason ground his teeth to hold in his own comments. A tall and spangled figure made her way to them through the crowd and he sighed again. “Donna? For the record, I tried to fucking walk away.”

Troia came to stand beside him, rather than Dick, which was a little strange. She was far closer to Dick than she’d ever been to him, despite the dimension hopping adventure. But, as she confessed to Jason a few days ago, Dick being in the Batman suit left her a little unnerved. Sometimes he would seem perfectly like himself, and then sometimes he wouldn’t be. 

Jason hadn’t needed to explain to Donna about Dick’s issues with Bruce, of course. 

“What’s up?” she asked, eyes searching what little she could see of Dick’s face.

“It’s nothing,” was all he said. 

But Damian couldn’t leave well enough alone. “It's these two being so far up Drake's ass they can't see how pathetic he is,” the newest Robin remarked, motioning at both Superboy and Jason.

“Robin,” Dick hissed at him, sounding a little angrier. “Names. We're not alone.”

Damian shrugged. “Does it matter? He's _retired_ now.” ‘Retired’ was said in a tone that conveyed his low opinion of Tim’s current status. 

Donna reached out to grab Kon’s arm and hold him in place when he took a step toward Damian. “Drake? Your Robin, right?” she asked the big teen.

Conner nodded, his jaw and neck tight. “The best Robin,” he growled, then glanced over at Jason. “No offense, man.”

“Hey, none taken.” Jason might have once been tempted to deck the kid, or try to at least, right then and there for his opinion. A lot of things had happened and Jason’s opinions about a great many things had changed. “Though if you say that around Batgirl, she'll kick you in the balls again.”

Donna nodded, her hold on Conner’s arm slipping away. “I liked him, he was nice.”

“He was weak-willed,” Damian corrected with a sneer. It either didn’t strike him that he was outnumbered in his loathing, or he just didn’t care. “He retired because he was asked to get a new home elsewhere.”

The words made it hard for Jason to breathe for a moment, he was so angry. He slowly turned to face Dick once again. “What?”

The little he could make out of Dick’s face turned red. “Dami,” he cautioned the kid.

Jason wasn’t having it, however. “Is that true?” he demanded with a growl. “You asked him to leave the manor?”

Damian nodded. “The carriage house, to be precise. He moved in when we returned to the Manor, despite having a perfectly good home in the city.”

Jason kept his glare focused on Dick and grew angrier as his older brother flinched. 

“He’s an adult, Jason,” Dick spoke softly, as if not wanting the other Leaguers to hear what they were saying. “You have to leave the nest sometime, and he and Damian just kept fighting.”

“So you chose Damian over Tim twice,” Jason noted, feeling mildly vindicated when Dick flinched again. 

“It wasn’t like that!” Dick argued. “I wanted Tim to be his own person, that’s all! I didn’t think he could do that while living with us. And Dami would get jealous, all they did was argue.”

“I was _not_ jealous of Drake,” Damian snapped, arms folding over his chest.

Jason ignored him, still focused on their elder brother. “You didn't think about mentioning this when, I don't know, I was _looking for him?_ ”

The white eyes of Dick’s cowl were focused elsewhere again. “He didn't move out, all of his stuff was still there.”

“It was all stuff that reminded him of you and Bruce!” Jason shouldn’t have been the one pointing this out to Dick. Dick had known the kid longer, he should know better. “He didn't feel part of the family anymore! Of course he left it!”

Dick flinched once again. “How was I supposed to know?! He didn’t say anything, he just left! We were worried and he didn’t even bother to let us know where he was!”

“Sure, blame Tim for your deficiencies,” Jason snapped back. “You're the one that's known him for years. Hell, from what I hear, you worked as much with him as he did with Bruce. How could you not know? I was probably a jerk to him right before, but you're the one he's looked up to. Not Bruce, not me. If he was troubled by something, whether it was me being stupid or whatever, you’re the one that should’ve been there for him. Why is him feeling alone and unwanted suddenly his fault?”

“He doesn’t care,” Conner cut in before Dick could answer.

Dick glared at the tall metahuman. “I care! I love that kid. I took care of him when Bruce couldn't.”

“You mean _didn’t_ take care of him,” Superboy growled. “And you never stuck around, did you? Always running back to Bludhaven. With your tail between your legs.”

“What happened?” Jason demanded, but when Dick refused to answer, he focused on Conner. “What?”

“Where to begin?” Superboy sighed. “Well, there's the fact that Tim basically felt he had to _be_ him and you, that Batman's sanity was rested solely upon his shoulders, when he didn't even _want_ to be Robin.”

Jason felt his jaw fall open in a slight gape, dumbstruck. It never occurred to him that Tim would ever not want to be Robin, considering how hard Tim fought against him. If it were true, he wanted to know what had made Tim play the part for so long if he didn’t want to do it. Was it just the thrill or did he believe he had no other choice? 

Superboy had mentioned Tim feeling like he had to be them. Had Bruce truly been that far gone after Jason’s murder?

Not at all sympathetic, and if it was true that he was jealous then that explained a whole lot, Damian snorted. “He made enough of a fuss when Richard gave me Robin.”

“At least _he_ deserved to be Robin,” Conner growled. “You haven’t done a thing to earn it. And you!” While Damian puffed up like an angry cat, the teen turned to Dick. “Were _never_ there when he needed you.”

Dick scowled at him, and it made him look remarkably like Bruce. “You don’t know as much as you think you do. I was there for him. Like when he got sick.”

Superboy laughed in his face. It was a dark and bitter sound, a little more Luthor than Kent. “You're so _stupid_ you can't even see what's in front of your own face! No Man's Land, you let him go down in the sewer!”

It was a testament to how angry he was that Dick didn’t try to lower his voice anymore, and Donna had taken to shooing people away. “He was fine!” 

“He had pneumonia!”

Jason’s fists were shaking. He knew he should leave because of his temper, but he had to know. “Without his spleen?”

Kon nodded, his eyes turning faintly red. He didn’t resort to using his eyes, though, and stuck with words. “It was just a cold, we kept telling him to take a break but Batman would say ‘suit up, Robin’ and the next thing you knew he hadn't slept in seventy-two hours. He just kept getting sicker and sicker. Bart and I drugged his coffee, we took him to a doctor.”

They watched as Dick slowly reached up to pull back the cowl. No one standing nearby by that point didn’t already know who he was, not that the man seemed to care just at that moment. He looked too shocked. Even Damian looked startled by this news and didn’t comment like Jason would’ve thought he would. 

Dick’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “He never said…”

“He _left_ because you _needed_ him,” Superboy continued. “He could barely breathe and his fever was a hundred and four but to hell with that. Bart was convinced he was going to _die_.”

Jason moved before he really thought about it, grabbing Dick and shoving him up against a wall as hard as he could.

Likely, with all the kevlar and padding, Dick hardly felt it, but it made him feel slightly better.

To his credit, seeing his mentor attacked, Damian yelled and went immediately for Jason. He was about to turn to fend the little brat off when Conner was just suddenly there, holding Damian by the scruff of his cape as if the kid really were an angry kitten.

The mental imagery made him think of home, where Taco and two young men were waiting for him. They were expecting better of him than fighting with Batman again. He was supposed to be over all that drama.

“I didn’t know!” Dick objected, but he didn’t try to fend Jason off. 

“Yeah, none of us did, except the people he trusts, which definitely weren’t us,” Jason replied, letting him go. He felt more tired now than angry. Still quite a bit angry though, so he continued, “Maybe Dami's right. Tim doesn't deserve to be in our family. He deserves so much better.”

Then he turned and didn’t stop walking until he got back to the quarters assigned to him. Before Bruce, Clark, and Diana had a chance to show up and be disapproving at them.

He’d missed lunch but decided against facing other people for the time being.

-

Jason went to take a shower to cool his head, before he did anything ‘rash.’ It did wonders for his mood and he stepped out again, dripping and clean, feeling mildly rejuvenated and less like he wanted to storm the place. 

After drying himself off, he was pulling on some sweatpants and contemplating checking the computer for new messages from anyone back in Gotham, when there was a knock on his door. 

Assuming that the interruption was about earlier, he shouted at the door the first thing that came to mind: “I’m not decent!” 

The door opened regardless. “You never are.”

Jason relaxed at the sight of his young protégé, giving her a relaxed grin. “Hey you. Sorry, thought you were Cranky Bat Number One.”

Sasha knew exactly who he was talking about, and raised a fine eyebrow at him. Due to her rather unique scarring, her eyebrows had taken a long time to grow back. The reconstructive healing had helped a great deal, though it would never remove all the scarring, she felt considerably more comfortable walking around in public. They lingered but the scars were no longer the dominating factor of her life, which she was finally living again. 

“Would nudity really have stopped him?” Sasha asked wryly.

“... No. And I would've been standing here with my balls dangling between my legs, too stubborn to get my pants.”

Sasha wrinkled her nose. “Mental image.”

“I have many skills,” Jason said with a grin. “Most of which are gross.”

“Uh-huh,” she sighed. Then, without warning, she reached outside the door to tug a tall teenage boy into the room with them. 

Jason’s smile and amusement dropped in an instant. “Oh. Well, I suppose it was going to be my turn eventually.”

Sasha’s eyes narrowed at his tone. “Be nice.”

“I am nice,” Jason argued, “I'm going to let Superboy hit me into the wall.”

If anything, Conner just looked cautiously amused by his words. “I'm not here to hit you. Probably.”

“No hitting.” She frowned at Conner. “ _Either_ of you.”

When he looked at her, Conner’s expression softened considerably. “I promise, little bird.” He even managed not to sound sarcastic. 

Jason raised an eyebrow at the nickname, but made no comment, sitting on the edge of his small bed. “Okay, no hitting,” he promised as well, even though attacking Superboy had not been what he implied. 

Sasha looked smug. “Good boys.” 

Conner only grinned at this, and that was what made Jason decide that he liked the kid a little more. 

“So I’m guessing this is about Tim,” Jason said, rather than voicing on that observation. Might as well give into the inevitable, he decided.

When he turned back to him, Superboy looked considerably more serious as well. “Right. Is he okay?”

“Well, yes and no,” Jason answered honestly. “A little more yes than no, but he’s working through some stuff.” Probably a lot of stuff that had been years in the making, if Conner’s story earlier was true. “Since I left, he’s been taking care of my cat and spending time with his friend Ives.” A lot of time, which Jason didn’t begrudge them, it was only that he would rather be there with them than up there on a satellite in space. 

Or perhaps have them on the satellite with him, but not to help the League. Just so that they could experience it as well. 

Conner’s eyes never looked away from his. “His ex.”

“Yup,” Jason said, not surprised that Superboy knew that detail. It only confirmed how much Tim must have trusted his Teen Titans friends. He smiled a little. “Not sure how much longer he’ll be just Tim’s ex though,” he confided. 

It wasn’t losing the war if he never had a chance to begin with. Knowing that they would both be happy, and that he’d played a very minor part in making it happen, would just have to be enough. 

Maybe they would still allow him hang out with them sometimes. 

Conner hummed in reaction. “Well, Tim did seem happy with him.” He continued to focus on Jason’s face, which was becoming a little unnerving. “He never introduced us though, and he used to spend an awful lot of time talking about you.” The look turned hard. “Before you beat him to a bloody pulp, that is.”

“Yeah,” Jason responded with a self-deprecating smile, not trying to deny it. He knew what he was. “I was a dick.”

“Asshole.” 

“That too,” Jason agreed. 

Sasha touched Conner’s muscular arm, as if she were completely comfortable with restraining the other teen. “Kon, stop. He really does feel bad about it.”

Conner only hummed again, but her touch seemed to calm him down, his steely blue eyes softening again. “Will you tell us where he is?”

Jason lifted his chin stubbornly, sure that he was just doing to get punched there for his trouble, but not caring in the slightest. “Nope. That's for him to decide. I appreciate you're worried about him and you're more his friends than I can ever be, but it's his choice.”

The stare continued for a moment before Superboy visibly relaxed. “I was kind of hoping you'd say that.”

Jason blinked. He was too surprised to even begin to form a response to that. Glancing at Sasha for help, he saw none there, for she just looked amused by his predicament. 

“He needs someone to trust,” Superboy went on. “Someone who won't betray him, even for a good cause. Would you take him a message for us?”

“Uh.” He glanced again at Sasha’s incredibly smug expression, seeing that he would get no assistance from that side of the ring. “Yeah. ‘Course I can.”

Nodding, Conner went to the small desk that had been furbished with the room, and scribbled a note on the neat little stationary that someone had had printed up with the JL crest. 

Jason blinked at the piece of paper when Conner handed it to him, then realized what it was as he read it. 

_Rapunzel,_

_We all miss you and want to see you. Please, let us know you're okay. If you need help, just yell._

_Love,_

_Peter, Aurora, and Alice_

_PS: Remember, second star on the left and straight on til morning._

“It’s a code?” Jason asked, looking at Superboy’s grinning face. At least it wasn’t as smug as Sasha’s still was. 

“Something like that,” was all Conner would tell him.

Not that it was his business, the note was for Tim. (Rapunzel?) He folded the note neatly into a square and placed it in the inner pocket of his jacket. “I’ll give it to him as soon as I can,” he promised. 

“Thank you.” The kid even sounded sincere, like he was really gonna trust the guy who’d knocked him and most of his friends out so he could beat up Robin in their own headquarters. 

Speaking of whom, he vaguely recognized the drop dead gorgeous girl who poked her head into his bedroom. Jason hadn’t been working with the Titans much (for obvious reasons) so it took him a second to remember that this was Donna’s replacement, the third Wonder Girl. 

She seemed like a perfectly competent Wonder Girl, but Jason was allowed to play favorites, even if just in his own mind. Besides, he’d worked with Donna when he was Robin and had known her longer, that was all. 

“So he’ll do it?” the girl asked. 

Sasha rolled her eyes fondly. From conversations with her, Jason knew that she got along with Wonder Girl just fine, but he hadn’t actually seen the two of them interact before. But Sasha’s behavior was comfortable and he could more easily see her making jokes and having fun with the other girl. 

“I said he would,” Sasha responded in an ‘I told you so’ tone. 

“Yay!” cheered another voice from the hallway. 

The little speedster, Jason guessed. “What’s this?” he asked Sasha, amused.

His sidekick sighed. “They didn’t think you’d do it. Sorry, this is Wonder Girl and Kid Flash.”

Another face joined Cassie’s at the door, with a cheerful smile and curly brown hair, who waved at Jason with a hand that moved a little too fast.

Jason waved back, deciding not to mention that he knew their real names, or that Tim had told him probably personal stories of their adolescent experiences together. Not everything, he was positive there were things Tim left out, but he probably knew more than they thought. 

Cassie pouted a little at Sasha’s words. “We care about Tim, he's important to us.”

“Never said otherwise,” Jason told her, though he knew that Tim’s relationship with the three of them--particularly Wonder Girl--was strained due to the events surrounding Conner’s and Bart’s deaths. Though they were both very much alive, it seemed like the awkwardness remained, from what Jason could gather on the little information Tim had given him. 

He certainly hadn’t gone into details, Jason just had a few hypotheses on the matter. 

Big brown eyes were focused in his direction. “We want to make sure he’s okay,” Bart said to him.

Jason leaned backwards. “Those eyes should be illegal.”

Superboy laughed and pulled the small speedster under his arm. “He's going to give Tim an important message for us.”

Bart blinked up at his tall friend with those criminally big, adorable eyes. “Is it a good note?”

“It’s a very good note,” Conner confirmed, then bent down to to whisper softly in the Speedster’s ear.

“Yay!” the kid cheered, leaning up to kiss Superboy’s cheek, who grinned widely and cuddled him closer. 

Jason watched the small speedster squirm happily and felt a little jealous, as well as lonely. He wanted to get back to Gotham, away from crazy dimensional crisis stuff, to see the two teens that he missed back home. Even if they _were_ getting back into a relationship. 

He also missed his apartment. It wasn’t much, but it was his and all his things were there. He missed Taco and keeping the little guy entertained while he tried to work or eat something. He missed exchanging snarky comments with Barbara. He even missed his sessions with Leslie, if that were possible. 

“Want us to leave you to brood in peace?” Sasha asked, smiling at him. 

“I’m not--!” He broke off with a sigh. “Just go away.”

“Mm-hm,” she hummed, not seeming to believe him. She nudged her friends toward the door, though the curly haired speedster waved at him again cheerfully on the way out. 

“If you want company, we’ll be in the rec room until mission time!”

When they were gone, the door shut behind them, Jason sighed. 

-

As Taco had a tendency to either rip up or lose the toys he actually enjoyed, apart from cardboard boxes, Tim had started creating new ones. He kept with things that the kitten seemed to prefer, like strings and bells, but nothing that was overwhelming. 

The newest toy he’d created was made with mostly old string and crafting feathers. Taco liked the feathers, though he chewed them up easily. He used a long piece of string to wave the feathers enticingly just above Taco’s head. Taco’s eyes followed it’s movements closely, the tip of his tail twitching idly.

“Come on, Taco,” he murmured softly, not wanting to startle the kitten out of his focus. “I know you want it.” He twitched the string, causing the feathers to bounce up and down. Taco slowly rose up on his back legs, stretching up to bat at the feathers with his paw and sending them swinging.

Tim smiled fondly. “Jase’s going to be amazed when he sees how much you’ve grown.” He shook the feathers again.

“Mew!” Taco seemed to reply, batting wildly at the feathers and almost falling over in the process. Tim laughed softly at the cute sight.

“You’re such a good baby, Taco.”

The front doors blew inward off their hinges with a crash, flying far enough into the store to crash against the first row of bookcases in a cacophony of cracking wood, breaking glass, and ripping paper. Tim tried to scramble out of his chair, knocking it back and over in his haste and fumbling for his bo staff. Taco yowled in fear and panic, obviously upset by the noise and chaos. He bolted away, possibly running up the stairs in an attempt to escape. 

“Red Robin,” a voice, that he didn’t recognize at first, bellowed dramatically at him from below. “I’ve come for my revenge!”

Tim panicked and, while he kept hold of his staff, he was unable to think of anything but running upstairs to the safe room. So he did, darting up from behind the counter and scrambling up the cramped stairs. The panic only increased as the person followed him, loudly pursuing him, heavy boots slamming down on the old wood floors, miscellaneous items falling and crashing to the ground. 

He pressed down on the locks before he was even completely in the bedroom, the door triggering and slamming shut, locking in place and nearly slamming down on Anarchy’s hand. The tall, younger boy managed to pull his hand away in time, but only just barely. 

Hearing the frustrating screams from outside the door, faintly, as well as a strong fist pounding on the hard steel, Tim slumped to the floor. He willed himself to breathe and to focus. 

Tim recognized the Anarchy mask, which was naturally why he remembered the voice. Ulysses Hadrian Armstrong, previously known as the General, and having taken over the mantel of Anarchy after getting the best growth spurt ever. (With possibly artificial aid.) 

Behind him, on the other side of secure door, he could hear the rustle and crashing as the loft was torn apart, broken only by some of Ulysses’ outraged grunts and yells. Tim covered his ears, trying to drown it out and keep breathing. 

He only noticed that he was crying when he could take in more than a few gasps. The moment of not-peace didn’t last long, however, as he heard the sound of destruction cease and there was a shrill little shriek of fear. 

Taco.

“No…” Tim reached up instinctively to unlock the door, but made himself stop short. Going out there now would only get both of them killed. He had to think of something. 

It was hard to think of anything as Ulysses laughed cruelly through the door. “I'm going to paint what's left of your home in the blood of this fuzzball, Red Robin!”

More tears started sliding down his cheeks. He hadn’t cried so much since his father died. “No, no, no, no, no... oh god, Taco…”

His heart pounding, not quite deafening out the sound of Taco’s struggling yowl--hang on, Taco, just hang on--and cast his eyes around the room frantically, trying to think. Reaching for training that had once been drilled into his head, but which Tim had been trying to set aside for months now.

With the noises Ulysses made, pulling open drawers as though he were looking for something, Tim’s eyes fell on his supplies and everything in his head sort of clicked on, overriding the sheer panic. 

He scrambled around his small room, gathering ingredients. Light bulbs, deodorant, a twisted up piece of tissue, and some matches. 

“Or maybe I’ll just strangle him!” the new Anarchy continued to taunt as Taco switched to crying out plaintively. 

Tim assembled a rough molotov, his fingers shaking so hard he thought he would blow himself up instead, but he didn’t.

“Getting bored, Robin, maybe I really will just kill the kitty and go.”

Tim whimpered and lit the fuse, getting the match to light on the second try before unlocking the door and jerking it open. He didn’t take more than a glance at the scene, but it was all he needed to see, and threw the molotov at Ulysses’ feet. 

He was already moving as Ulysses cried out and dropped Taco, lunging after the little kitten as he just barely touched the dirty and debris-filled floor. The kitten was quick and at first Tim only managed to grab one tiny paw before he took Taco in both hands and scrambled down the stairs toward the little used side exit. 

As Taco’s claws dug into his skin, Tim couldn’t even feel angry at him for it, he only hoped he wasn’t hurting the poor baby. 

He didn’t stop running even as they made it outside, not until he reached a bus stop. He was breathing too quickly and he tried not to look at other people. Taco tried to cry at first, during the rushed journey, but now that they were around people and so much noise, talking and cars passing by, he was considering quieter and shaking in Tim’s hands. 

The staring continued, which made it hard to catch his breath, because he was _outside_ with people and it was hard to _breathe_. This was the last thing he wanted to be doing, he wanted to just curl up somewhere dark and safe, like his room with the secure door and walls, but he couldn’t go back there again. He had to go somewhere that Taco would be safe, so it didn’t matter what Tim needed. 

He had no money, which he realized when he tried to get on the next bus to Gotham, but an elderly woman paid his way without a word. There was worry in her kind eyes as she guided him to a seat, and he’d never been so grateful to a total stranger before, though he could only imagine what she thought about him. Out of breath and looking over his shoulder and out the windows constantly, keeping an eye out for the maniac that had destroyed his home. 

As the bus started to move, Taco began to cry out again, so Tim cuddled the kitten close inside his jacket. The ride to Gotham was miserable for the kitten, though most of his cries were drowned out by the noise of the bus. They got caught in a little bit of traffic but otherwise were only a little delayed getting to the next bus station. 

He rubbed Taco’s tiny ears throw the ride and as they finally climbed out of the bus. He was in such a hurry to get out of the cramped station that he forgot to thank the woman for her earlier assistance, which he didn’t think about until halfway to Park Row. He just wanted to get Taco home as quickly as possible.

He knew where Jason’s apartment was in Crime Alley, having looked into it before even leaving the Wayne grounds for the bookshop. But he had to find it again by memory, from the street, in broad daylight, while evading gang bangers. A group of which broke off from what they were doing to follow him, but they stopped as he approached the street Jason lived on. 

No doubt this meant that Tim and Taco had just passed through some sort of gang boundary, and it didn’t make the teen feel any better. He felt in his pocket for his bo staff, but he must have lost it in the scramble around the shop, because it wasn’t there. If something happened, he would have to defend himself and Taco in some other way. 

Tim found the right building, but the actual apartment was a little harder, and it was mostly through trial and error. (In case of an emergency, the man left a spare key that a few people knew about, including Tim. It was just above the door to his apartment, so Tim had to feel above each one on the third floor before finally getting the right one, freaking out a couple of Jason’s neighbors along the way.)

Tim let them inside, and as he took a few breathes, his nose was filled with Jason’s familiar scent. It helped him relax a little bit and he let Taco go, the kitten taking off instantly to hide under the couch.

Tim sighed guiltily and looked around, feeling like an intruder despite Jason’s permission. (“I want you to have a place to go if you need to,” he’d said.) 

One of Jason’s leather jackets was flung across the couch, making it and the piece of furniture look strangely inviting. Tim almost reached out to touch it, the tangible sign that Jason was real and existed and would return, but instead he limped around in search of the man’s first aid kit. The adrenaline was finally wearing off and his ankle, likely sprained in his struggle to get away, was starting to hurt. 

He eventually found the kit in the bathroom, which had everything he needed even if it was not quite as much as his own supply had. (He wondered if he would ever get his own kit again. Or anything. Or if Ulysses would simply burn the entire shop down in his wrath. He wondered if Ulysses would follow him to Jason’s to finish what he started.)

Pushing thoughts away and sliding down to the floor, Tim ever so carefully started to work his shoe off. The pain increased, because it had started to swell inside the shoe, and getting it off was painful. He managed it, however, biting his lip as he attempted to stifle his whimpers of pain. 

Swollen, the ankle looked bad, all black and blue, and was bleeding a little bit. There was also blood on his hands, from Taco’s claws, and he cleaned the scratches after finally noticing them before finishing with his ankle. Which was good because his head swam at the sight of his ankle and it helped clear his head by focusing on something else.

It had been awhile since he was this injured, and even longer since having a friend to assist him in such a state. Tim desperately wished for Alfred and Dick, but didn’t dare call them, having been made clear he wasn’t actually part of the family. It didn’t stop the want, however. 

(He also wanted Ives and Jason, but Jason was busy saving the world and it wasn’t safe for Ives to be there.) 

He rubbed more antibacterial cream onto the cuts on his ankle, gingerly, though it hurt regardless. Then he bandaged and wrapped the whole mess, absently wiping at the moisture that trailed down his chin, his hand coming away with more blood making him realize he’d bitten his lip. 

Tim could only imagine the mess he must have looked like in that moment. How utterly pathetic and useless he was. 

_He used to be Robin_. 

Taking a few more breaths, Tim managed to wrap his ankle as tightly as he could stand it. Then he dry swallowed a couple of Advils and sat back, waiting for them to start working and to keep breathing. From this vantage point, he could see the door and most of the windows, so it worked as a place of rest for now. 

He didn’t realize he’d drifted off until something wet was licking his sore fingers. Immediately, he was assaulted by fresh pain, and it felt like he was hurting everywhere. His body was no longer used to this kind of abuse, but he hadn’t injured his head, so he didn’t believe he had a concussion. 

He glanced down, moving only a little because he didn’t want to scare away his sole companion. “Hey, Taco. Are you okay?”

Taco’s ears pricked and he rubbed against Tim’s hand, either seeking attention or offering affection, Tim wasn’t sure. He took it as a good sign either way, and carefully scratched the kitten’s ears. 

After a moment, Tim gently gathered him into his lap to look him over, gently stroking his hands over Taco to search out possible injuries. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Miraculously, Taco appeared to be fine despite his recent maltreatment, though Tim couldn’t be sure, having no prior experience with animal treatment. (Getting a cure to a family of giant bats certainly didn’t count.) But Taco didn’t seem like he felt ill, if anything he seemed remarkably normal after their difficult day, and Tim could breathe a sigh of relief. 

He cuddled the kitten gently against his chest. “I'm sorry, sweetheart, I never meant to put you at risk.”

Taco only purred, blinking at him with surprisingly calm blue eyes, and leaning his head into Tim’s fingers. 

It was the only way that Tim could apologize in a way Taco would understand, so he kept petting. “Don't worry, sweetheart, I won't let him hurt you again,” he promised. 

Together, they shared a nap there on the floor, but Tim eventually had to get up, the position not entirely comfortable for his sore body. 

“Let’s make sure you have everything you need,” Tim told the kitten, carrying him as he limped across the apartment to the little kitchen. 

There were a couple of full bags of cat food, but there was only a half finished container of litter, and no box at all--that had been left behind at the shop with the new one Ives had helped him purchase. 

Instead, he found an Amazon shipping box cut the flaps, lining the bottom with plastic bags to fill it. He sat it on the floor not far from bowls he was temporarily procuring for the kitten’s food and water. Then he sat Taco in the box, so that the kitten would know what it was for. 

As he moved around the apartment, Taco simply followed him around as he got things set up for him. Last, he got out the laundry basket, filled it with some of Jason’s clothes--some dirty and some clean--then placed Taco inside of it. The kitten could climb out if he wished, so Tim sat beside the basket and watched over him. This seemed to help Taco relax, and Tim smiled as he kneaded the material before curling up to sleep. 

Then, as quietly as he could, Tim limped out of the apartment, locking up and hiding the key again back where he found it. 

Down the hall was an empty apartment. There were a few paint cans and a ladder stacked out the door, so it was a good indication that it was being renovated. (Jason had mentioned how he had tried getting people interested in working on the building to make the rest of it habitable, but funding had dried up in the middle of the work. This must have been one of the apartments, Tim realized as he pushed open the unlocked door.) 

There were few supplies left behind, not that there had been a lot of thefts in the neighborhood since Jason’s hard work began. (Something Jason had, albeit tiredly, been proud of.)

He picked up a piece of metal plumbing pipe that was discarded on the floor, swinging it around a little to test the weight. Then he sat down in a corner without windows, pipe in his lap, to watch the door. 

Having slept so much earlier, he no longer felt as tired, though he was still in an amount of pain. He took another advil, the capsules still in his pocket, and focused on the door.

Ulysses wouldn’t get him by surprise again.

-

Jason stumbled into his room, his big limbs clumsy in his tiredness, though not in pain. His cuts and bruises had already been seen to, his broken bones mended again with magical and alien technological aid. (And a dislocated shoulder from high fiving Cyborg, but he was too manly to admit that it hurt, and the shoulder had already been aggravated during battle.) 

He was already in bed, his clothes still on, and about ready to pass out when his phone began buzzing. 

Jason hadn’t used it much, having assumed that it wouldn’t get a signal in space, and he grumbled about Bruce wasting money on satellites as he picked up his phone. The screen alerted him that not only was Ives calling him, but had in fact been trying to call him twenty-one times prior to this, and had left ten messages.

“Yeah…?” he asked groggily upon hitting accept on the screen. 

“Oh thank fucking god,” Ives breathed, “I thought you'd both disappeared on me.”

**Both**. Jason didn’t even marvel at how good Ives’ voice sounded over the phone-- _great signal, Christ Bruce_ \--sitting up and instantly awake, as if drenched in ice cold water on his crotch. “Wha'd'ya mean both? Wha?”

“Tim’s missing!” Ives screamed into his ear. 

Jason winced at the volume. “But... No, he can't have, his last email seemed fine…”

“I went to check on him a couple of days ago and the bookstore was trashed.”

“Christ.” His mother would’ve smacked him for using the Lord’s name in vain, and even if she were alive--hell, either of them--he still wouldn’t have cared at the moment.

“I've been trying to reach you or Oracle ever since. I looked through what I could of the store and I... “ Ives trailed off and for a few seconds all Jason heard was his breathing. “I didn't find any bodies.”

“You didn’t find Taco?” Jason pressed.

“No. The place was wrecked though he could have gotten out. ... Or maybe he's with Tim.”

Jason tried to make himself sound firm but soothing, though what he actually wanted to do was mirror Ives’ panic, which would do either of them no good. “He is. Tim would only let something happen to him if Tim were captured or... So Tim's alive.” He scrambled to get his jacket back on without moving the phone away from his ear. “He's okay, I just need to find him. Again.”

The idea did not sound fun, especially considering how long it had taken before. Tim could be hurt, they had to find him _now_. 

He could call in the calvary. Tim’s friends would absolutely want to know, they would scour the Earth to find Tim. And he saw no reason not to tell them, so he managed to figure out how to send a text to Sasha while still talking to Ives.

“I checked most of the places I could think of,” Ives went on as he clumsily typed. “He didn't come to me or any of his friends that I know of. He's not in any Wayne property I can find.”

“Just like before,” Jason sighed but tried not to sound as frustrated as he felt. “Good work, Ives. It's going to be alright, I promise. I'm returning to Gotham now if I have to steal a damn shuttle, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Ives responded, voice shaky.

“Yeah? Need me to stay on the phone?” He took one last quick glance around the room to be sure he had everything before walking out. Sasha and the rest of the Teen Titans were on the other end of the hallway, waiting for him and looking anxious.

“I should keep looking,” Ives answered hesitantly.

“Okay,” Jason said, still trying to sound reassuring. “I'll text when I'm back in Gotham, then swing by to pick you up after I get some stuff.”

“Okay.” 

“See you soon.”

“Better.” 

Jason smiled faintly and ended the call, joining the Titans to explain to them what he knew so far. He would have an easier time haggling for a quick teleport down to Earth with their help, and hopefully with all of them searching, they would soon find Tim. 

-

TBC.


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven:

-

Superboy had to stay on the satellite due to the fighting not completely being over, so the rest of him returned to the planet to begin searching without him. Wondergirl was going to coordinate most of the search, Jason just wanted to head back to Gotham to do what he’d promised, get some things and then pick Ives up. The first time Tim went missing, Ives had been stuck at home, trying to keep up with his school work and physical therapy while worrying where his friend was. Not this time, Jason had promised, Ives would be part of the search even if he was a civilian. 

He convinced the operator to send him straight down to his apartment building, and it placed him in the hallway, which was good enough. He was probably lucky to not have been ‘beamed’ directly into a wall or someone’s bathtub, so Jason shrugged and entered his apartment quietly.

Turning the key--the one in his pocket, not the spare--as softly as he could, out of habit despite being in a hurry, he walked inside. 

The apartment was mostly as he left it, which wasn’t a surprise, but the laundry basket being on his living room floor was new. He definitely did not remember leaving it there, nor had Sasha.

So either he had ghosts or someone had used his spare key to get in.

He stepped closer, quietly, to peer inside and get a better look. There was a small indent on the clothes inside, along with little white hairs that stood out very plainly on the dark shirts. 

“Taco?” he called immediately, getting on his knees to look behind the couch, which was the kitten’s favorite spot when he was scared.

There he was, a little bigger than when Jason last saw him, but it was definitely his kitty. Jason sighed, his heart soaring with pleasure.

He’d been right!

“Hey, buddy,” Jason cooed as he slid down to the floor, reaching for Taco. The kitten tried to scoot away, but he wasn’t fast enough, and Jason pulled him out gently to cuddle him close. 

Taco gave a little squeak and swished his tail in irritation (or anxiety), looking around and at Jason with big blue eyes. 

Jason shifted his legs into an Indian-style, crossing his legs, and held Taco to his chest. “I knew it. I knew you were okay.”

The little ball of fur (though not as little as Jason had left him, he was still getting over that one) purred and slowly relaxed on his chest. 

Jason pressed his cheek against the fur on Taco’s head. “Don't suppose you wanna tell me where Tim is, huh?”

In his hands, his kitten jerked a little as someone stuck the spare key into the lock. The door already being unlocked, it didn’t do much, not that the person on the other side of the door would’ve been able to tell. (It was an older lock and that was just how it was.) 

Jason tensed, reaching for one of his gun, but he didn’t need it. A familiar dark haired figured shuffled slowly into the apartment, favoring one leg but very much alive

“Hey, Taco, are y--” Tim stopped short when he caught sight of him. “Oh…”

Jason didn’t move, studying the supposedly missing teen. Not only was he favoring his leg, he had band-aids on his hands and his lower lip had a healing split.

Tim ducked his pretty face as if trying to hide the cuts and bruises. “You’re back.”

Slowly, Jason got back to his feet and walked over to him, as if Tim were as skittish as their cat. He placed Taco in the laundry basket along the way. “You’re hurt.”

Tim shrugged. “I’m okay.”

“You haven't been eating again,” Jason noted and felt Tim’s forehead, caressing. “You’re warm.” 

“I…” The kid trailed off and looked away.

Jason smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way. He hadn’t meant to accuse Tim of anything. “I'm glad you're okay. Ives called me--he's _been_ calling me, trying to let me know that you'd been attacked.

Tim bit his lip but wouldn’t meet his eyes again. “Ulysses... He found the shop.”

It took him a second to place the name. Ulysses was the second guy to wear the moniker of Anarchy, but for a brief time the guy had put on his Red Robin suit. Or rather, it was an alternate Jason Todd’s suit, and Jason borrowed it for awhile. He wasn’t able to return it now. Even if he could go back to the right Earth, that Bruce was dead now. 

A Bruce that had mourned his Jason just as much as Jason’s Bruce had mourned him. A Bruce that had made a choice that his Bruce hadn’t. Seeing what that choice had done to Bruce had snapped some unwanted reality into his skewed world view, but Jason hadn’t wanted to admit it for a long time. 

Jason still wasn’t sure how much the Lazarus pit had to do with that either.

Jason cursed softly. “That guy again? Thought he was still in jail.” Where Jason had left after the last time he ran into the dude, but this was Arkham and that didn’t mean much. Obviously, he was not in jail now, and that was the important detail.

Jason hooked an arm around Tim’s waist to help him stay upright. 

Tim gave a soft hum in answer and allowed the bigger man to lead him toward the bedroom.

“C'mon, let's get you to bed. I'd better call Ives and get a look at that foot.”

“It’s okay,” Tim protested weakly even as he went along with him, “I’m fine.”

Jason wiggled his eyebrows. “Very fine.” He grinned as Tim gave a little embarrassed squeak. 

It was okay to be silly because they’d found Tim again. Everything would be okay. 

“Let's get you to bed anyway,” Jason chuckled, guiding Tim to his bed. 

It was a queen size, since Jason was pretty big all on his own, and he helped get the flushed teen snuggled in on one side of the mattress, swaddled in fresh sheets that Jason pulled out of the tiny laundry cabinet. 

He also elevated Tim’s foot with the aid of a spare pillow. The way Tim whimpered as Jason moved it, however gently he tried to be, told him that it the teen might not have been allowing himself to heal properly. Likely because he’d been using it, but Jason would need to get a better look at it before making any assumptions. 

Jason tsked at him softly anyway, brushing Tim’s sweaty hair off his forehead. “Wait here, okay?” he asked, waiting for Tim to nod before going to the kitchen, to get ice for the ankle. It looked swollen at the very least. 

Taco rubbed against his ankle while he was there, so Jason scooped him up and brought the kitten to Tim along with the ice pack. He curled up almost immediately beside Tim’s hip and Jason smiled before inspecting Tim’s ankle a little bit.

Definitely swollen, he decided, gently putting the ice pack on it. “You haven't been resting this,” he chided. 

Tim surprised him by getting tears in his eyes and swiftly looking away as he tried to hide it. “Ulysses caught Taco, he was going to kill him to get to me. I had to make sure he stayed safe.”

“Shh, it’s okay.” Jason caressed his head gently, then wiped his tears away. “You did a good job keeping him safe. But you can rest now. I'll protect you both.”

“You shouldn't have to,” the teen protested weakly, “it's my fault.”

“Of course I don’t have to,” Jason agreed, “I just want to.” Jason kissed Tim’s forehead as he dug out his phone. 

Tim sniffled and rubbed at his damp eyes. “Sorry…”

Jason resumed petting his hair. “Shh, stop. You haven't done anything wrong. You're not burdening me.”

He sniffled again so Jason shifted closer, cuddling the other former Robin gently with his closest arm. Tucking Tim’s head under his chin, he thumbed through his recent calls until he got to Ives’ name and pressed on his cellphone number. 

“Jase?” Ives asked after only one ring, his voice having a panicked edge to it. “What's up? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Jason answered before Ives could get too worked up. “Can you get to my apartment? Tim's here.”

“What?” There was a quick scrambling noise on the other end of the line. “What’s going on? Is he hurt?” He didn’t sound any more relaxed than when he first picked up the phone.

Jason decided to answer honestly. “Yeah, his ankle's not great and he probably needs to eat. This asshole attacked him at the bookshop, but Tim managed to escape with Taco and he's been hiding here.”

“And he couldn't tell anyone?!” There was more rustling and then a door shutting. 

Jason winced because the shout was loud enough for Tim to hear, he could feel the boy cringing in his arms. “I think he was worried someone else would get hurt,” Jason tried to defend him.

“Stupid, self-sacrificing idiot…” Ives muttered with heavy irritation in his voice. “I'll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Okay. If you run into anyone, just tell them you're here to see me.” Jason didn’t think any of his guys would assault Ives, but he liked to be on the safe side.

“Got it. Keep an eye on our boy.”

Our boy. Jason smiled a little and rubbed Tim’s back soothingly. “Won't let him out of my sight.”

“Good.” 

For a moment, Jason had the urge to tell Ives that he loved him, but thankfully the line ended before he could make an ass of himself. 

Jason kept rubbing his back as the teen cuddled close. “Ives is on his way,” he breathed into Tim’s floppy hair, mostly unnecessarily, for something to say. 

“Okay,” Tim spoke softly into his shirt. 

Jason pressed a kiss into Tim’s hair and continued to cuddle him. “We're gonna both take care of you.”

“Shouldn’t,” Tim mumbled, still trying to protest. 

He placed more kisses in the boy’s hair. “Shush. We love you so we’re going to do it.”

Tim’s only remaining protest was to sigh. He stayed cuddled in his arms, Taco purring contentedly nearby, until there was a knock on the door. Taco jumped at the noise and disappeared somewhere (probably under the bed). Tim reached out for where he’d been, as though instinctively, and Jason’s heart clenched at the gesture. 

Running from that overgrown bastard Ulysses must have been hard on both of them. 

“S’probably just Ives,” Jason extracted himself gently from Tim. “I’ll let him in.”

“Taco…” Tim whispered in protest, his blue eyes less watery than before, but now worried. 

“He’s okay.” Jason bent down to check while he responded quickly to Ives’ worried text, wondering why he was taking so long to answer the door. Just as he thought, Taco was curled up under the bed, his eyes almost as wide as Tim’s. “He’s under the bed.”

“Oh…” Tim still looked worried when Jason glanced up from his iPhone screen. 

Jason gave him one more caress on his head. “He’ll come out when he relaxes.” 

Tim took a breath and nodded. “‘Kay.”

The only reason Jason left him to answer the door was because he wanted Ives inside and with them as soon as possible. 

The teen’s strawberry blond hair was messy, and he ran his fingers through it which made it even worse. “Where is he?” Ives asked without preamble, walking inside. 

“Bedroom,” Jason answered, pointing the way, and wasn’t surprised when Ives hurried past him to go on ahead. He closed and locked the door. 

“Tim!” he heard Ives exclaim. Just the name was scolding and disapproving. Jason winced and followed a little more slowly.

“Ives…” came Tim’s small reply. 

Jason stood in the doorway and watched as Ives crawled into bed, his longer and thinner limbs wrapping around Tim’s body, but mindful of the ankle. 

“I was worried about you!” Ives said, still stern but considerably more gentle. 

Tim rested his forehead against Ives’. “I’m sorry.”

“Should be.”

Tim tried to pull away, but it only made Ives cling all the more stubbornly. Jason continued to just watch them and smile a little. 

“The bookshop was trashed, Tim,” Ives added. “I thought you were dead.”

“Sorry,” Tim repeated, hiding his eyes which brimmed with tears again. 

“You scared me, Timmy.” It wasn’t accusatory, simply the truth.

Tim seemed to finally relax and he wrapped his limbs around Ives in return, except for the ankle. “Sorry. I didn't want him to come after you too.”

Ives made a disapproving noise. “I would have prefered that to having you drop off the face of the Earth. Again.”

Tim shook his head from where it was pressed against Ives’ again. 

“Yes,” Ives said firmly, cuddling him gently. “I was freaking out, Tim. I called Wayne Manor, everyone we know, Jason about a million times, I even tried to find _Oracle_. Who I don’t even know much about but I would’ve found a way. Even if it meant I had to youtube video with me wearing a greecian mask and nothing else.”

“In a normal circumstance, I would've answered right away,” Jason said from where he still stood, observing them. “But I was getting beat up by aliens at the time.”

“Hm, well I guess you're forgiven. This time.”

Jason gave the other ginger a lopsided salute. “I'm gonna go put on some soup for him,” he said and then left, closing the door to give them privacy. 

Ives continued to cuddle his ex, who was relaxed in his arms now. 

“Is he hurt?” Tim asked.

“Jason?” Tim nodded. “Not that I know of.” 

“Said he fought aliens. He takes unnecessary risks…”

The big Justice League thing that Jason had left for. Neither of them had gotten too many details in Jason’s emails, but he didn’t look bad. 

“What about you?” Ives asked. “Are you injured?”

Tim flushed. “Just the ankle.” He motioned down at the ice pack covering his ankle. 

Ives tutted softly, giving him a squeeze to let him know he wasn’t mad. “Want me to check on Jason?”

“Please?” Tim asked, giving him a big eyed look.

“Alright, stay here and be good.” Ives kissed his forehead before untangling his limbs from Tim. “Rest.”

Tim smiled up at him. “Mm, okay.”

Ives left his backpack in the bedroom and went to the kitchen to check on Jason. It didn’t escape his notice that Jason probably left them alone because he thought they needed privacy, but Ives had other things in mind. 

Just at that moment, Jason had his shirt lifted up and was checking on fresh wounds. He stood in front of the stove, where a pan was warming up some canned soup. 

Ives frowned at him. He wasn’t even entirely sure this was hygienic, but the wounds looked tightly bandaged anyway. “Jason.”

“Hm?” Jason blinked at him. “Sorry, just needed a fresh bandage. Not getting it in the soup.”

Okay, so his thoughts were in that direction, but not seriously and Ives gave him a disbelieving look. “Just how injured are you?”

“Not too bad.” Jason smiled at his disapproval as if it amused him. “Tim's more important anyway.”

“Right.” Ives shooed him away from the stove. “You go bandage yourself up and make sure that Tim isn't hiding any injuries because you are both ridiculously stubborn jerks.”

Jason sighed at the accusation. “It’s not that bad, Ives.”

“Oh my god, just go. I’ve got this.”

“Okay…” 

“Good boy. I'll bring the soup when it’s done.”

“Sure.” Shoulders drooping, the older man finally obeyed and went back into the bedroom with Tim. 

Ives didn’t feel bad, he just didn’t know what he was going to do with the two of them. It would probably involve making sure they took better care of himself. 

-

Jason hesitated for a moment inside the bedroom, then pulled his shirt the rest of the way off. 

Watching from the bed, Tim emitted a small, worried noise and hissed his name, “Jason…”

“M'okay.” Jason flexed his sore shoulder and ribs to show him it wasn’t serious. “They already saw me on the satellite. What about you?”

“Ankle was the main thing, a few scratches.”

“Yeah?” He didn’t seem to be lying but Jason wanted to be sure. (Which he was supposed was kind of hypocritical, but he didn’t want to face Ives to be disappointed in him further.) 

Jason carefully pulled at Tim’s clothes and, flushing some more, the dark haired teen obliged and removed his top as well. 

He took in the compact muscles on Tim’s torso, still in pretty good shape even after retiring, though probably not quite as fit as when he was at his Robin peak. He had sprinklings of dark hair along his stomach and chest that stood out against the pale skin. 

Jason caressed Tim’s ribs lightly, using the excuse that he was checking for broken bones. 

A pretty flush spread over the teen’s cheeks. “M’okay.”

They sat there quietly for a few moments, Jason just lightly touching Tim’s bare skin and gradually relaxing in one another’s presence, when they were rejoined by Taco. The kitten had regained his courage and climbed up onto the bed, settling once again near Tim’s side. 

Tim rubbed the kitten’s ears gently, his body relaxing further. 

Jason smiled as he watched the two. “Baby loves you too.”

“He’s sweet.”

“So are you,” Jason said before he help himself. 

Tim’s face flushed at the compliment and he didn’t respond. He didn’t look turned off or afraid of him either.

Jason reached up to touch his cheek. “I had a lot I was going to talk to you about when I got back.”

The teen blinked at him shyly. “Oh?”

“Mm-hm.” Sadness, a deep and heavy ache, settled in his chest again. “But it's not important. Just want you and Ives to be happy.”

“I will punch you.”

Jason whirled around to see Ives, carrying soup, come into the room and kick the door shut gently. He hadn’t even heard the boy there. 

Ives went on. “And I won't even feel bad about it. Swear to god.”

“Huh?” Jason wasn’t sure where the anger had come from. Maybe he was jealous that Jason was touching Tim? He started to move away from the injured teen. 

“Ives has… strong opinions,” Tim said hesitantly. 

Ives nodded and he approached the bed. “And those opinions are that you two are meant to be together.”

“No.” Jason shook his head at Ives. “You two are. I'm just... not.”

Behind him, Tim whimpered. He looked back to see Tim pressing his face against Taco’s fur. The kitten looked distinctly uncomfortable with the treatment, but he endured it. 

“Why does this always happen to me?” Tim bemoaned.

Jason’s confusion was growing. “Huh?”

Ives just grinned at him unhelpfully. “Come on, Tim, soup.”

The brunet sat up with a pout and allowed the bowl to be settled in his blanket covered lap. 

As Ives settled beside him again, Jason took that as his cue to go. He stood. “I’ll let you two have a minute alone.”

Ives gave him the most saccharine smile he’d gotten since the last time he pissed Sasha off. “If you do, I'll punch you in the face. Don’t even fucking care if I break my hand on your chiseled good looks.”

Jason blinked at him in utter dumbfoundment. “What?”

“You two are ridiculously dense, I don’t know why I bother.”

Beside him, Tim’s face was flushed as he ate his soup and wouldn’t meet Jason’s eyes. No help there.

Jason allowed himself to be tugged to the bed, and he was seated in the remaining space of the mattress, his hip against Ives’. 

Ives kept a hold on his arm as if he thought Jason would bolt. “Now, we need to talk. All of us.”

Jason gulped thickly. He could break Ives’ hold but made himself stay where he was. The hold was helping in that regard as well. 

Ives’ hands tightened on his arm. “Nope.”

Jason nodded grudgingly. “Okay. Talking.”

Ives gave him another squeeze. “So, I'll start by telling you what I told Tim. I think he should decide what he wants and I'll abide by his decision.”

“... Oh,” Jason said, not sure how else to respond.

Ives grinned as if his lack of response pleased him somehow. “Personally I think you two idiots make a pretty fantastic pair but…” He shrugged.

Jason shook his head at the other redhead. “No, no, I'm not good for anybody. You two are gonna be amazing. I'll just be happy to just, you know. Be your friend? Fuck, that sounds lame.”

Ives’ lip jutted out in a pout. “Hey, Tim and I agreed to stay friends.”

“So we let Tim decide.”

“Yes.”

Beside them, Tim’s face was red. “I don't know. I can't choose.”

Jason felt himself melting at the hopeless expression. His own turmoil didn’t matter if Tim was suffering this much. “Tim. Hey, it’s okay…”

Tim kept facing his soup, which he had only eaten half of. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” Ives said, reaching out to put his arms back around Tim.

Tim sighed. “I'm an awful person.”

“You aren’t!” Jason objected.

Tim’s face turned red. He reached out and lightly touched the arm that Ives was still holding onto. “I am. I should just know, but I don't and it's hurting you both.” The boy looked between them shyly. “I love you both.”

Ives carefully handed the bowl of soup to Jason for him to set aside. “And we love you,” Ives said as if he needed no confirmation from Jason.

He didn’t. Jason nodded. “Yeah.”

With a shy smile on his face, Tim reached out and took hold of their hands in each of his. 

Ives brought their joined hands up and kissed Tim’s knuckles, which made the brunet smile and blush even harder. The redness went all the way up to the boy’s ears now. 

Jason was amused as well as jealous this time. “Smooth.”

“Yup. Couldn't have been smoother if I gave him roses.”

“Yeah, since I hate roses,” Tim muttered, bumping his shoulder against Ives’.

Jason grinned at the smaller redhead. “Oh right, who do you think you are, Tuxedo Mask?”

Ives’ face lit up with happiness. “I _knew_ you were a secret nerd.”

Tim pressed his face into Ives’ shoulder and snickered at their exchange, which made Jason feel a little relaxed. 

He smiled sheepishly and stretched his arm out, trying to cuddle both boys at the same time. 

“Aw,” spoke up Ives, squished between them, “so cute.”

“So are you,” Jason said into his strawberry blond hair. 

“Like destined and reincarnated lovers,” Ives said.

Jason blushed. He’d meant that Ives himself was cute all on his own, not that Tim and Ives were cute together. Of course, _they were_ , both together and singularly, very cute. 

Ives lifted his head and Jason watched a slow smile spread over his face. “And you think we're perfect?”

“You and Jase?”

“Mm-hm…”

“Yeah,” Tim admitted shyly. 

“Aw…” Ives squirmed around until he was cuddled against Jason’s back, nudging the bigger man until he was closer to Tim. Ives settled his chin on Jason’s shoulder. “He thinks we're hot, Jase.”

“You’re hot,” Jason corrected, embarrassed. “I’m just big, red, and hairy.”

“Aw.” Ives pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“And I have freckles on my ass.”

“So do I.”

Jason laughed and ruffled the boy’s lighter red hair. “S’not a deterrent for me.”

“And it’s not for me. So stop pouting about it.”

Beside him, Tim snickered softly, resting his cheek against Jason’s chest in a way that made him feel whole. 

He was just about to cuddle the brunet some more when Tim said, “If you two want to be alone…”

Was he _teasing?_ If it was a tease, it was the shiest one Jason had ever heard.

“Nope,” Jason told him, pressing a kiss into his floppy hair.

“Mm. Because it's okay if you do.”

“Oh Tim,” Ives hummed over his shoulder. “You know what I think?”

“Mm?” Tim didn’t lift his head from Jason’s chest.

“I think,” the ginger teen said, “you and Jase are injured and trying to make a decision right now is too stressful for everyone.” Jason glanced at him. He was smiling. “How about we postpone any and all talks in favor of cuddles for the time being?”

Tim finally lifted his head, but it was to sit back obediently against the pillows. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

Ives reached across Jason’s bulk to rub Tim’s arm. “Need anything else?”

Tim shook his head, still holding onto each of their hands, but he had to let go as Ives started to get them better positioned in the bed. “I’m fine.”

“Okay, how about you, Jase?” Ives asked, getting covers up over their bodies.

Jason wasn’t going to try to fight him on this. He didn’t really want to. “Sleep sounds good to me. S’been a long day.” 

Ives smiled with a touch of smugness. “Alright,” he said approvingly, settling down on Jason’s other side. He shifted closer for cuddling.

Jason rested his hand over Ives’ arm and rubbed his hands over the soft arm hair. It was less coarse than the hair on his own arm. 

Ives nuzzled against his shoulder, making a comfortable moan that had Jason feeling more relaxed. 

He closed his eyes and drifted off. It really had been a long day. 

-

They were playing video games while Jason was out. It wasn’t because Jason didn’t like it, but there were quite a few titles that Ives felt like Tim needed catching up on. Since he’d been too busy being Robin, then briefly Red Robin, to do too many geeky (and normal for them) activities.

Tim tried to concentrate on Silent Hill 3’s great music and story, but he was still worried about Jason being out there, looking for the man that had attacked him. It was the third night that the older man had gone looking for Ulysses, having found some leads but not much success. Even so, Tim worried regardless, and pulled the big fluffy blanket, that he was wrapped in, tighter around his body.

Ives had taken over most of the gameplay after Tim had a few too many weird moments with the game’s tank controls. (He was a little out of practise with gaming in general.) “You know if I didn't know why you were acting like this I'd be jealous.”

Tim turned away from Heather beating on monsters with her newly acquired gold pipe. (“Yes, Ives, I remember the Zelda games. Crime fighting didn’t give me geek amnesia.”) “Huh?”

Ives smiled and shifted a little closer to him on the bed. “Worried?”

Tim nodded. “Yeah. Ulysses is tough.” 

Ives paused the game so he could wrap an arm around Tim’s blanket wrapped form. “I suppose suggesting make outs would be crude.”

Tim felt his face grow warm, but he snickered in amusement, leaning against Ives’ side. “Somehow I don't think Jase would mind…” he pointed out teasingly.

Ives smiled a little more eagerly. “Is this place bugged? Could he watch it later?”

Tim laughed at his eager questions. “It probably is but I'm not sure Jason has access to it.” He knew Barbara would have the decency to turn the camera off once she realized what was happening.

“Aw, well that’s no fun,” Ives said, nuzzling. 

“Mm, yeah.” He nuzzled back happily. Ives hadn’t shaved since that morning and he was getting a little bit of scruff back already. It felt good on his skin. “Maybe Babs will be nice and let him see the video.”

“Mm… We could give him a private viewing maybe?”

“When he gets back?” Tim asked, blushing. “As long as he doesn't feel left out or something.” He still hadn’t made his choice. He didn’t _want_ to make a choice between them. 

“Mm-hm. If you want.”

Tim blushed very brightly as it registered what he was suggesting. He stiffened against Ives’ side, mildly horrified. It didn’t seem all that long ago when he hadn’t been ready for sex with anyone, much less two people. But these two in particular made him feel comfortable and safe. 

Ives pressed a soft kiss against his cheek. “Finally got it, huh?”

“Oh my god,” Tim whimpered in a faintly squeaky voice.

Ives just snickered at him. “You’re adorable.”

“I’m awful.” 

“You're awfully adorable.”

Tim groaned and covered his face with the fuzzy blanket. “I was suggesting that we try a threesome because I’m an awful person who can't decide.”

“Hey.” Ives nibbled on his ear in a distracting way. “I think a threesome is an excellent idea.”

Tim whimpered but was still hesitant. “You do?” he asked, surprised. 

Ives hummed. “Of course I do. I've only been commenting on it since I heard about you and him.” He licked the earlobe that he had nibbled on, soothing the skin. 

Tim gasped softly at the sensation. “But I don't mean just one time,” he confessed, embarrassed. “Or just an occasional thing.”

“Not talking me out of it, sweetheart,” Ives said, still licking him. 

Tim pulled back enough to look at his oldest friend. “Are you sure? You wanted a serious relationship.”

Ives shrugged. “Who says threesomes can't be serious?”

“You'd like that?” Tim asked, just to be sure. 

“Threesomes are twice as serious.”

Tim relaxed a little, able to tell that Ives was joking while being perfectly serious about the situation. (Also that he probably thought Tim was being silly by this point.) “Okay. If it’s what Jason wants too.”

“He will,” Ives assured, nuzzling against Tim’s cheek again.

Tim nuzzled back happily, relaxing a little more. “Okay.”

Ives smiled at him happily. “Should we give Jason something nice to come home to?” he suggested, pressing a soft kiss behind Tim’s ear. 

Tim mewed at the familiar action, smiling. “We could. Depending on what you’re suggesting…” 

“Us? Making out?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Tim smiled a little more, shyly blushing. “Mm, okay.”

“Good.” Ives turned his face back to his, kissing him. 

He hummed, distracted from his worry for a few moments by the kisses in a way that the game just couldn’t. Tim responded eagerly, opening the blanket so that he could wrap the edges around both of them, making Ives drop the controller altogether. 

Not long after, there was a racket that had them pulling their mouths apart, and Tim going on the defensive. He relaxed as Jason stumbled into the bedroom.

“Jase?” Tim asked, noting the glazed look in Jason’s eyes, which appeared more green than usual. 

Jason moaned and took a few steps toward the bed. “Tim…”

Tim stayed cuddled up to Ives for the moment. “Are you hurt?”

When he was closer, he saw that Jason’s pupils were blown wide. “Ives… Tim…”

“What’s wrong?” Tim pressed. 

There was no warning before bigger man was lunging at them. Tim was preparing to throw Jason off and subdue him, when Ives’ laughter stopped him. He opened his eyes to see that Jason was kissing Ives’ face all over, like an overly affectionate puppy. 

“Jase?!” Ives managed between his laughter. 

That was when Tim caught the familiar floral scent. “Jase? Did you run into Ivy tonight?” he asked, rubbing Jason’s nearest shoulder.

The man only grunted. 

Ives whimpered as Jason’s hands began to wander over his wiry frame. “Seriously? That’s a thing? I thought that was just a dumb rumor. Locker room talk…”

Tim shook his head, watching them and becoming a little aroused himself. “Nope, it’s real. He’s been dosed with sex pollen.”

A slow grin spread on Ives’ face. “Well that saves us some time having to convince him,” he commented, wiggling underneath Jason’s larger frame.

“Ives, we shouldn’t,” Tim protested.

“Aw, but we should help him out. With sex. Lots and lots of sex.”

“He doesn’t have full control, it’s just the pollen.”

“Not just the pollen,” Ives moaned. “He could’ve gone anywhere, but he came home to us…”

“This is wro-” Before he could protest further, he was smothered by kisses.

Jason moaned into his mouth. “Tim…”

“Go if you want, Tim,” Ives said, grinning mischievously. “I’m staying.”

Jason growled and tightened his hold on Tim. “No going,” he managed to grunt out.

Ives was smiling as he petted Jason’s hair soothingly. “See, Tim? We want you to stay. Play with us, Tim.”

Jason turned his head and kissed Ives’ wrist. “Stay. Love you both.”

Tim melted at the proclamation. It wouldn’t be just the pollen behind those words, the pollen didn’t actually change how you felt. He reached up and petted Jason’s cheek, which was scruffier than Ives’. “Jason…”

This gained the older man’s attention. He turned back and kissed him again, wet and clumsy, but still enjoyable. 

Ives reached over and rubbed Tim’s arm. “Come on, mouse, play with us.”

Tim was still reluctant, but he found himself agreeing anyway, because it was still what he wanted. “‘Kay…” he whimpered between Jason’s kisses. “But don’ call me mouse…”

“Mouse?” Jason echoed, growing a little more aware.

“Because he was quiet when we were kids,” Ives told him, smiling fondly. “Now clothes off, Jase.”

Jason grunted and sat up to remove his clothes right there in front of them. So fast he was practically ripping them off, then he proceeded to help Ives strip down as well, tugging so eagerly that Ives started to laugh. 

Tim undressed a little more slowly, blushing in both embarrassment and arousal, watching as Ives’ and Jason’s limbs tangled up together as they couldn’t seem to stop touching each other. 

Jason noticed him staring and gave a dazed leer. “Tim,” he sighed happily.

“He’s shy,” Ives panted, smiling.

“And gorgeous,” Jason added, leaning over to kiss Tim again.

“Mm, yeah, he is…”

The kisses were definitely befuddling his normally analytical, controlled mind. Not that Tim was going to consider that a bad thing. In this case, it was very good, especially as Jason’s wandering hands joined the mix. The bigger man seemed to be trying to touch them both at once. 

Grinning, Ives reached between Jason’s legs and stroked his erection with a firm touch. The man moaned, not at all bothered by the distraction, and pulled Ives closer to them.

Tim got a chance to catch his breath as Jason broke the kiss in order to kiss Ives. He watched as the other two--his soon to be lovers--kissing deeply, practically devouring one another and stealing occasional breaths. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from them. 

Jason growled and nibbled down Ives’ neck, pulling Ives’ long, freckled, and tattooed legs apart so he could settle between them. “Mm, Lube…”

Ives squirmed beneath him in what Tim remembered as feeling incredibly enticing. The way Jason moaned, he knew that he felt the same way. “S’your place,” Ives reminded, “you tell us.”

Vaguely, Jason motioned at the tiny dresser beside the bed. 

Ives being the closest to it, he squirmed over to open the top drawer and search around inside with his hand, laughing as Jason kissed the cthulhu tattoo on Ives’ bicep. It was the smallest tattoo that Ives had, and though Tim liked all of them, he loved the little dapper hat on the figure’s head. 

When he finally dug the bottle of lubricant out, Ives turned back to Tim with a grin. “Hey, Tim.”

“Hm?” Tim hummed, rubbing Jason’s back soothingly to help him relax. The man wouldn’t last too long at the rate the pollen was coursing through him.

The bottle was opened and held under Tim’s nose. “Remember?”

Tim sniffed and smiled as he recognized the smell. “It's our lube.” He looked at the bottle more carefully. “It’s our bottle.” 

Ives laughed softly. “Mm-hm, same flavor and everything. Quite the coincidence.”

“No, silly, it’s _ours_.” The label was smeared and torn in exactly the same way as Tim last saw it.

“Mm. Borrowed it. Good thing though.” Jason didn’t seem to realize how puzzling his confession would be, as he moved down and began sucking lightly on Ives’ hip.

Ives whimpered and squirmed at the mouthing on his skin. “You _borrowed_ our lube?”

“Mm. Was jealous.”

Tim blushed. “Jase…” He wasn’t going to lie to himself, it was kind of creepy. But it was also just a little sweet. Tim hadn’t bought that brand in sometime so Jason would’ve had to find it in the cottage house, where he briefly lived before leaving. So Jason only found it because he was looking for Tim and trying to find clues.

Jason smiled up at him, just briefly, before he switched over to Tim. He kissed the younger Robin’s hips before, without hesitation, taking Tim’s penis into his mouth. 

Tim gasped and whimpered as he was swallowed. “Oh, Jase...!”

Nearby, Ives shifted closer to his side. “So hot.”

Tim’s face heated and he hid it against Ives’ shoulder. “Oh my god, Ives,” he panted, which was all he could do to express what it felt like.

Ives nuzzled and cuddled him while Jason pleasured him. “Good boy.”

Tim nipped Ives’ shoulder. “Not a dog.”

The smaller redhead mewled happily, enjoying the treatment. “Mm, nope. Our beautiful boy.”

“Yours?” Tim managed as he tried not to push deeper into Jason’s mouth. He was already in pretty deep. 

“Mm-hm. Mine and Jason's.” Ives cupped his face and kissed him deeply.

Tim was very happy to return the kiss, whimpering and squirming as Jason moaned around his length, the sensation of his mouth vibrating around him. He whimpered into Ives’ mouth, the loud sound muffled, as Jason took him deeper, deep throating him. He gripped Tim’s hips firmly so that he couldn’t move.

In the throws of the sex pollen, Jason was probably not taking as much care as he would have. But Tim didn’t know for sure. Perhaps Jason was normally like this during sex. 

Tim gasped and accidentally bit down on Ives’ tongue. When Ives hissed and broke the kiss gently, he had enough sense to ask if he was okay.

“Mm-hm,” Ives hummed, brushing more gentle kisses over Tim’s lips while glancing mischievously down at their lover. “He's really working you over.”

“Understatement,” Tim whimpered in agreement, thrusting a little into Jason’s mouth, as much as he could with Jason’s firm grip. There was a possibility that he would bruise, but that didn’t matter. 

“Jase, you’re gonna make Timmy come,” Ives said teasingly.

Tim squirmed as Jason hummed in answer. “Don’t call me Timmy. Jerk.”

He saw Ives open his mouth to respond, but Tim didn’t hear what his friend said, because that was when Jason chose to swallow around his length, his mouth and throat tightening. Tim gasped and came abruptly, spilling into Jason’s waiting mouth, who swallowed his seed without complaint.

Tim whimpered, his skin oversensitive. He remembered his first blow job ever, given to him by Ives, who had ended up getting most of the fluid on his bedding. They’d had a good laugh about it. 

He didn’t think he enjoyed this one more than that, because it was a good memory, but even so. He hadn’t quite expected this and again wondered if it was just the sex pollen. 

When he lifted his head, Jason’s glazed expression, with arousal and pollen influence, was also decidedly smug.

Though he just wanted to sit there and enjoy the afterglow, Tim knew what he wanted to see happen next. He reached for the lube. “Roll over, Ives.”

Ives blinked, then grinned as he understood, and rolled over to give Tim access to his ass, so that he could be stretched for Jason. (At least they had practise doing this, though it had been awhile. But he could knock the disoriented Jason out if he got rough.)

Jason, still leaning over him nearby, gave a faint growl deep in his throat. It sounded possessive and it made Tim stop what he was doing. 

“Want me to stop?” he asked Jason carefully, wondering if the pollen, which had made the man eager but docile, would lead to something more aggressive. 

But Jason merely shook his head, leaning up to nuzzle at Tim’s neck with open affection. 

Tim smiled shyly, tired, as he continued to work his fingers into Ives’ tight entrance. He whimpered, getting Ives’ attention as Jason began to suck on his neck. 

“Fuck,” Ives murmured, watching them hungrily.

Tim smiled, knowing how goofy he must look and not caring. “Soon,” he promised, working another finger into Ives. He should probably be going slower but Ives was normally used to being stretched fairly quickly. (That was, of course, when they had been having a lot of sex.)

Ives groaned and bumped his cheek against the pillows, frustrated. “Tease.”

“Soon Jason's large cock is going to be inside you,” Tim was inspired to point out.

That had his friend squirming. “Evil tease.”

He kept rubbing his fingers inside of Ives. “How ready are you?”

“Very, hurry up!” 

Tim pulled his fingers out, reaching over Ives, searching the drawer for--yes, condoms. He should have made Jason use one for the oral sex too but he hadn’t been thinking about it. Next time, for sure, he told himself. (Because there were going to be lots of next times.)

Jason whined in pleasure as he rolled the condom over his erection, but didn’t protest. He was so aroused than any touch probably felt good to him. 

Tim gave him a soft kiss as he teasingly rubbed more lube onto the condom covered penis. “Hold on, Jase, almost got it.” He leered at Ives playfully. “I hope it doesn’t rip.”

Ives groaned, but kept smiling. “Don't remind me of sex ed, jerk. Besides, I’d assume the big lug would buy the right size condoms.”

Tim giggled, a little on the side of hysteria, but the situation was just so absurd. A few moments ago they’d been sitting on the bed playing video games, just as they’d done growing up. They got through Final Fantasy VII just taking turns, sitting in Ives’ bunk bed. 

“ _Tiiim_ ,” Ives whined, reaching over the short distance between them to pinch Tim’s hip. 

Tim jerked a little away at the little assault. “Ow.” He still didn’t know why Ives thought he enjoyed that pinch, but he’d been doing it for years. 

He lifted his head and gave Jason a kiss on the cheek. “He’s all yours, tiger.”

The bigger redhead didn’t seem to need any other permission, as he reached for Ives and grabbed his hips, lifting the boy up to align them. Ives gasped at the abrupt movement, and again as Jason pushed his penis into him.

Tim fretted, coming a little more awake and making himself sit up. “Jase…”

“S’okay,” Ives said before Tim could knock Jason off of him. (Or at least try to.)

However, once he was inside of Ives, that seemed to calm the pollen induced man. Jason paused and began rubbing his scruffy cheek against Ives’. The boy beneath him gasped and squirmed happily at the sensation.

Tim relaxed a little, but he reached for Ives’ hand, still worried. 

Ives responded to his grip, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m fine. Just a little rough at the start.” He gasped again as Jason moved his hips a little. 

Tim leaned in to nuzzle his shoulder. “Not hurting you?”

The other boy whimpered as Jason move again, but gave him a smile. “Mm-hm.”

He nuzzled more, figuring that couldn’t be entirely true, because there had to be at least a little pain after so long. (Unless Ives had been having more sex than Tim knew about? No, Ives would had told him if he were seeing someone or had casual one-nighters.) 

Jason gave another growl, catching Tim’s attention again. He reached up, petting Jason’s face and sweaty hair. “Jase…”

The man gave a moan that was practically a purr, leaning into Tim’s touch like a kitten.

Tim smiled shyly into his half-lidded, dazed eyes. “We’re not going anywhere, Jase,” he promise.

Jason responded with that same noise again.

“Be gentle, okay?” Tim asked hesitantly, leaning up to kiss his cheek. 

Something flashed across Jason’s expression and suddenly he looked a little more alert. “Want me to stop?” he asked with a sad keen, as if the idea hurt him. 

Tim was relieved to see him starting to fight the pollen, but Ives chose to respond with a growled, “Don’t you dare!” and push his hips up enticingly against Jason. 

Jason moaned and thrusted in response. 

Ives moaned in appreciation. “And don’t be gentle either,” Ives said, much more happily. 

Jason grunted and bent down until he could kiss the tattoo over Ives’ heart. It was the cancer survivor tattoo. “But don't wanna hurt you,” the older man panted out softly.

“Even if I like it?”

Jason whimpered in a decidedly unbothered way. “Sure?”

“Oh yeah,” Ives said, smiling as he angled Jason’s face so he could kiss him deeply. 

Tim watched them fondly as Jason responded, returning the kiss hungrily, as he began to thrust into Ives. He reached up to pet Jason’s hair again as they moved together, grunting and panting, Jason holding onto Ives possessively. 

“Tim,” Jason grunted. “Ives…”

Ives hummed in answer and reached around around to rub the back of Jason’s neck. It made Jason moan at the attention he received and he thrusted faster. “Yesssssss…”

Jason moaned Ives’ name and his hips stilled tellingly. It was quick but it said something about his stamina that he lasted that long under the pollen. 

Tim smiled, petting Jason’s hair again briefly before reaching between them to find Ives’ erection, to stroke him to completion so that he wasn’t neglected. 

“Tim…” Ives whimpered, still beneath Jason, who was slumped over him tiredly. 

Tim leaned in to whisper sweetly into his ear. “Ives…”

“Tim, so sexy…”

Well Tim couldn’t agree with that but he didn’t think it was a good time to argue. “Love you, Ives. Come for us.”

Ives moaned and arched under Tim’s hand until he came, spilling between his and Jason’s bodies. 

“Oh dear,” Ives whimpered as he caught his breath.

Tim kept his hand on Ives’ sensitive penis, liking how it felt in his hand and to get a few more teasing strokes in. “Hm?”

Ives squirmed. “He’s getting hard again.”

Tim flushed. “Oh. For a second there, thought I was that good.”

Ives laughed tiredly, then grinned in a decidedly wicked manner. “You are. I don't think we're gonna get a lot of sleep tonight…”

The brunet’s face grew warmer. “S'not a good thing really…”

“Why not?”

“Sleep would help him get better faster…”

Ives pouted. “You're not going to make him try and sleep with a hard-on are you?”

“No, of course not.” That wouldn’t be any good for his condition either.

“So come play with us,” Ives said, tugging on one of his wrists.

Tim snuggled closer uncertainly, and was soon wrapped in Jason’s closest arm, held and pressed closer to Ives as tight as they could without squishing painfully. He nuzzled Ives, needing the assurance that he really was alright, and Ives rubbed their noses together playfully. A second later they were kissing again, gentler than before, with soft, playful nibbles. 

Tim whimpered because he could feel Jason watching them, but it didn’t make him want to stop. It didn’t feel wrong, it was just so different than just being with Ives, and it would probably take awhile to get used to the novelty of it. Being with two people at once. 

He gasped weakly into Ives’ mouth as the other boy’s slender hand wrapped around his lax penis, still a little wet form Jason’s saliva, and began stroking him to hardness. He could feel Ives’ smile against his lips and whimpered plaintively. 

Still settled over them like a human blanket, Jason stirred a little as he moaned and began to move rhythmically. “Mm… Beautiful…”

Ives shuddered in such a way that Tim realized what he was doing, breaking the kiss to frown at the two redheads.

“Jase, not supposed to reuse a condom like that,” Tim protested. 

“I said no sex ed, Timmy,” Ives protested, writhing underneath Jason.

But Jason listened without being told again, pulling out of Ives and removing the condom, tying it off to throw away in the trash while Ives pouted. 

Jason gave him, then Tim, both sloppy kisses that had them smiling again. “My boys.”

“Mm, c’mere, Jase.” Ives pulled Jason back on him, closing his legs and directing the man to thrust between them. 

Unwilling to leave the closeness off Jason’s embrace while he rutted between Ives’ legs and the smaller redhead squirming against him, Tim stayed where he was. This close, he felt them move more than he could watch them, but it was nice too. He flushed as Jason began to thrust between Ives’ thighs faster and Ives gave a moan of approval, rubbing himself into Jason’s sheets. 

“Tim,” Jason moaned roughly, his cheek resting on the back of Ives’ messy hair. 

“Mm, yeah?” Tim hummed, nuzzling Ives’ shoulder.

“Love you,” the man surprised him by panting. 

Tim smiled shyly. That was going to take time for him to get used to as well. “Love you too, silly,” he responded, reaching up to pet Jason’s sweaty hair again, brushing it off his forehead. If he finger combed it long enough, the white forelock almost entirely disappeared, but not entirely.

He was tugged up gently for a kiss, and Tim found himself responding as if it were all perfectly normal to kiss one lover as he fucked his other lover. 

“Ives,” Jason moaned against his lips as he kept moving between Ives’ freckled thighs.

Tim wasn’t even jealous. He sat back against the pillows again to watch them writhe against each other. 

Ives smirked back at the man over his shoulder. “Close, Jay?”

“Mm,” Jason grunted, kissing the teen eagerly. “Love you, Ives.”

Ives looked very obviously started by his proclamation. “Wha--?”

“Love you, Sebastian Ives,” Jason said, looking a little more aware again. 

“Jase…” Ives didn’t seem to know what to say to that. 

Tim kissed his cheek reassuringly. “I love you too, Ives.”

His friend responded with a faint smile. “Love you too, dork.”

Tim nuzzled against his cheek and shoulder. “We both love you,” he said, just in case it wasn’t clear to Ives by now. It was strange but maybe there was a chance for them to make it work. 

Ives turned to kiss him, and Tim blushed as he responded, Jason moaning above them. 

“Beautiful,” Jason complimented, eyes returning to their pollen-induced, glazed state. He pressed kisses to Ives’ neck and Tim’s shoulder. “You’re both gorgeous.” 

Ives grinned back at him. “Flatterer.”

Tim watched as Jason nipped at Ives’ neck and his thrusts between Ives’ legs picking up speed. Ives arched his neck and Jason suckled on his skin in a clear attempt to make a hickey. 

Tim wondered if they would wake up in a few hours with many more of the little red marks, as Jason seemed to enjoy giving them.

Ives gasped. “Come for us, Jase.”

The larger man emitted a long groan as he climaxed between Ives’ legs. When he was done moving, he rolled off to the side, still partway on top of Ives as he fell asleep. They knew he had when Jason started snoring.

Ives covered his mouth as his surprised gave way to laughter, while Tim settled for just pressing his lips together tight to hold them in. His effort was made harder as their eyes met, conveying mutual mirth. 

“We shouldn’t laugh,” Tim managed in a whisper. “It’s just the pollen…” 

“Hope so,” Ives said, still panting a little, cheeks still flushed. “Sounds like you have a lot of experience in this.”

“Sorta. I usually just take the antidote,” Tim confided with some embarrassment. “Dick has some… interesting stories though. Sore?”

Ives ignored his non sequitur. “Mm, yeah, or will be tomorrow at least. Not too bad though.”

Tim kissed his shoulder. “When he's himself, you should tell him you love him too.”

Ives’ face grew redder. “What’s wrong?” Tim asked, gazing at his familiar face. 

“Nothing,” Ives replied.

“Sure?” Tim prodded, feeling like there was more to it.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Tim pulled his skewed glasses off gently and set them aside for him. “Because if I'm not allowed to freak about Jason loving me, neither are you.”

“You _did_ freak out,” Ives reminded unhelpfully.

“I did,” Tim magnanimously agreed. “But he says he loves us both.”

Ives pressed his face almost entirely against the pillow. “I know.”

“Good.” Tim yawned widely, another happy giggle escaping him as Jason snored again. 

Ives grinned tiredly. “Think we should try and tuck him in?”

“Mm, s'okay. You rest.” Tim pulled away from his lovers just long enough to grab the discarded blanket, pulling it over them before they could start getting cold. It was big and fit over all three of them somehow, though part of Jason’s buttocks was peeking out from the edge on his side. 

Ives hummed, already sliding into sleep despite not coming a second time. “Mm, if you're sure.”

“Yup.” Tim snuggled close again, figuring that Ives would wake him up later if he were still aroused. 

He almost started laughing again as Jason’s long, muscular arm settled over them again, the snores never ceasing. He didn’t know how he would sleep with the noise, though it wasn’t loud, but Jason’s breathing was pretty even and Tim was tired. He drifted off without any trouble.

-

Tim woke later to Jason masturbating furiously against his hip. 

He wasn’t sure how their positions had changed, as he hadn’t woken before this. Jason had managed to crawl between he and Ives while they slept. From his angle he could see Ives’ pale arm wrapped around Jason’s waist, and assumed that the smaller redhead was cuddled spooning their lover. 

Jason hadn’t seemed to notice him waking yet, busily sucking bruises onto Tim’s neck and shoulder as he jerked off, the tip of his penis grinding against Tim’s hip. 

So the pollen hadn’t worn off quite yet. Tim smiled tiredly and reached up to pet Jason’s hair. It was still sweaty from earlier, but this was good if Jason wasn’t taking the antidote. He just needed it to work out of his system. 

With a low moan, Jason orgasmed again, getting their bodies that even dirtier in the process. Tim was still too sleepy to care and just continued petting Jason’s hair back. 

Jason hummed and kissed Tim’s skin in a very sloppy, tired way. 

“Sleep, Jase,” Tim ordered gently. “We’ve got you.”

“Mm-hm,” Ives mumbled from behind Jason, his long fingered hand rubbing over the larger man’s belly. 

Tim watched as Jason’s eyes fluttered as he drifted off again, as easily as before, and smiled. It didn’t take him long to fall back to sleep as well.

-

Ives stirred again closer to the sun coming up (it was going to be yet another cloudy day so it was hard to tell when exactly, and he was too lazy to squint at the digital clock readout just yet). 

There was someone nibbling on his wrist. He assumed it was whoever he was holding onto. It took him a few seconds to realize why that was an usual thought, and where Tim was. 

Jason whimpered into his skin as Ives gently extracted his arm. 

“S’okay,” Ives murmured, petting him as he reached down, finding Jason’s erection and wrapping his hand around it. He stroked firmly, feeling the foreskin slide and stretch with the movement, and it wasn’t long before Jason came again. 

Not quite how he’d been imagining this would go. More crazy rounds of sex, less sleeping, but it probably made sense. 

“You hurt?” Jason asked softly.

“M’okay,” Ives said, pressing a kiss to his back, over his shoulder blade and the old scars he’d seen weeks ago. “Sleep.” 

“Mm, dirty.”

Ives yawned against Jason’s skin. “Shower 'morrow. Mm…” 

He cuddled down to go back to sleep, but let Jason roll over and rest his head against his chest. The older man drifted back off while Ives brushed his hair back soothingly. 

-

Tim woke up, though he didn’t want to, when one of his lover’s abruptly scrambled out of bed and fled the room. 

It was unusual for him to wake up like this. Not just after having slept with his boyfriend (or boyfriends), but not wanting to wake up. There were plenty of times in the past when he hadn’t wanted to get out of bed, didn’t want to face the world, but this was a different feeling. 

The covers had been tugged off him completely at Jason’s abrupt exit. It was definitely Jason because Ives was still next to him, appearing just as sleepy and confused. 

Tim reached for the covers again. “Mph?”

Ives groaned and pressed his face into the pillows, covering his eyes. “S'not morning yet.”

Tim twisted around to look at the half-covered window, ending up lying half on top of Ives in the process. “S’light out.” Barely. It was cloudy and probably wouldn’t get much more light out than it was currently. 

There was a crash in the other room, fainted through the closed door, and Ives groaned again. “Don' wanna get up yet. Go get him.”

“Mm, what do I get if I do?” Tim asked idly. 

“My everlasting love.”

“Mm, cheapskate.” Tim rolled off, grabbed the blanket and draped it around himself to ward off the chill. He stuck his tongue out at Ives when he tried unsuccessfully to grab it back.

There was another noise from the other room. Tim got up and followed the noise.

“Jase?” he called softly as he opened the door. 

Jason froze where he stood as Tim emerged. He quickly took in the scene--he’d just caught the man in the act of trying to get his clothes on. The noises had come from a few things being knocked over in Jason’s haste.

Tim yawned widely into one hand, holding the blanket in place with the other. “What're you doin'?”

Jason wouldn’t look at him. “I hurt you and Ives.”

His tired brain couldn’t wrap around that. “Wait, what?”

“Took advantage of you.”

Tim sighed softly. It shouldn’t have surprised him that this was a worry that Jason would have upon waking because it mirrored some of Jason’s thoughts the night before. Maybe they did need Ives there as a buffer for their negative feelings. “It wasn’t your fault, Jase.” He reached for the man’s hand, gripping it in his smaller one. “Come back to bed.”

Jason flinched but didn’t pull away. “I should go.”

Tim’s stomach clenched uncomfortably at the words. “If that’s what you want,” he responded neutrally. Even though this was Jason’s place, perhaps he and Ives should leave and give him time to calm down…

Jason made a strained, broken little laugh that reminded Tim way too much of how Jason had been before, when he attacked Gotham’s crime lords, Batman, and then eventually Tim as well. His replacement. 

“I _want_ to go back to last night when I wasn't a rapist.”

Tim frowned at him and shook his head. “You aren’t a rapist.” Even at his worst, that was a line Jason would never have crossed. 

“I am,” Jason argued, not angry but hollow. It didn’t make Tim feel any better. “And so I need to stay away from both of you.”

“Jase…” Despite his better instincts, Tim stepped closer. When the man didn’t move away from him, Tim felt encouraged enough to reach up, touching his (even scruffier) cheek. “You didn’t rape us. If you're going to call yourself a rapist then I'm one too.”

He had time to move away from what happened next but Tim chose not to. He allowed Jason’s arms to close around him. “No, don’t say that.”

“Why not?” Tim challenged. “You were under the influence of sex pollen, that negates informed consent.”

“I wanted to before,” Jason mumbled, perhaps starting to see reason and passed his panic. 

“And you think I didn’t?” Tim asked, his tone still as firm despite his face reddening at the admission. Despite what they had done last night, it was still embarrassing. 

Jason stared down at his face like he was trying to discern the truth that way. “I don't know. Still thought you'd pick Ives.”

Tim felt his face grow warmer. “M’not picking either of you.” He was still firm on this. 

Jason frowned, looking more confused. “There's someone else? Or you don't want a relationship with either of us?”

Tim couldn’t help it, he had to hold in a giggle. He squeezed Jason’s arm. “Stop running to the worst conclusion. That’s not what I meant. We talked about this before.” Though he hadn’t come to a real decision until just before Jason got home. They hadn’t had time to talk to him about it at all in the frenzy of pollen-induced sex. 

“He's being greedy for once and picking both,” Ives spoke from the doorway.

Tim wasn’t sure how long he’d been there watching them. The slender redhead leaned against the doorframe, naked and yawning into one of his hands. He looked pretty grumpy about being made to get up. 

“I…” Jason blinked at him. “Okay?”

“Are you done freaking out now?” Ives asked tiredly. “Because I refuse to be awake this early and someone stole all the covers.”

Tim thought this was probably a good thing to say because Jason cuddled him closer. 

“Guess so,” Jason said. 

Ives nodded. “Good,” he said, coming over to them and tugging at Tim’s blanket.

He blushed but let him have it, and he was naked in Jason’s arms as Ives tugged it off his body. 

Ives smirked sleepily at him, draping the blanket around himself. “If you want blankets come back to bed.”

“Bed sounds good?” Jason asked hesitantly. 

Tim nodded against Jason’s chest. “And Ives is gonna be cranky if we don't let him get some more sleep.”

“‘Kay.” Jason guided Tim back to the bedroom, sighing as Taco darted in, then out of the room, nearly tripping them up. 

“He okay?” Tim asked softly.

“Yeah, just doing normal cat stuff.” Jason didn’t close the door entirely, just enough to keep the heat in. Just in case Taco wanted to join them again, Tim guessed. 

By this point, Ives had thrown the covers messily back over the bed and was ensconced firmly in the center of the bed. He looked very pleased with himself to have them returning to bed.

Jason smiled, which looked a little strained but he was otherwise looking better, and climbed in on one side. He hooked an arm around Ives’ waist and seemed to relax even more.

Ives looked smug.

Tim was a little amused by that and climbed in on the other side. He rested his own arm over the one resting on Ives, petting the dusting of arm hair covering his skin. 

“Still need to take a shower,” Jason muttered.

“Later,” Ives stressed. 

-

Sometime later--it wasn’t any brighter outside due to the overcast--Jason woke slowly to soft, wet noises. Looking up, he found Ives and Tim not too far from him, making out messily and clutching at each other. 

Ives palmed Tim’s hips, his fingers digging into and kneading the smooth, pale flesh as he pulled Tim closer to him. While Tim, whimpering, seemed to be sucking softly softly on Ives’ tongue as the redhead explored his mouth. 

Jason moaned softly at the sight. His brain wasn’t still clouded by the pollen, so this was just normal hormones, though he couldn’t blame himself this time. They looked gorgeous. 

His boys seemed content to grind against each other for the time being. Tim had rolled on top, which seemed to please Ives since it gave his hands pretty free access to Tim’s backside. 

Tim wiggled his hips until Ives spread his legs, letting the shorter boy settle between them and rub firmly. 

Ives made an approving noise, stroking Tim’s sides and up to his chest, tweaking Tim’s peaked nipples. 

Tim bit his lip and rubbed himself against Ives’s erection. “Lube?” he panted.

The other boy didn’t really look like he wanted to stop what they were doing, but he looked at Jason silently. 

Jason wasn’t so busy leering that he couldn’t lend his lovers a hand. He reached for the lube and fresh condoms, opening one package for them. 

Ives took it with a smile and nuzzled Tim’s cheek, which seemed to calm the brunet down a little. “You want to do it?”

“Mm-hm,” Tim said, lifting his hips up in offering.

Ives grinned and quickly slicked his fingers. Tim wiggled above him, eyes on Ives’ hands, and the redhead snickered at his movements. “Impatient,” he teased, pressing his lube-covered fingers to Tim’s opening.

Tim smiled as he did. “Mm-hm.” He glanced over, saw that Jason was still watching them nearby, and winked at him. “D’you want me too?”

Jason leered back warmly. “Stupid question, baby bird.” Sitting up, he scooted closer until he could press a kiss to Tim’s bare shoulder.

The little brunet smiled, his cheeks turning an attractive shade of pink that somehow made his eyes shine more. Or maybe that was just because they were lucky enough to make the boy happy.

Ives kissed Tim’s nose, grinning wide and teasingly. “Maybe Jase and I should share and both rub off on you.”

Tim gave a full body shiver in arousal, biting his pink lower lip in a way that Jason found unintentionally seductive. (Or seductive because it was unintentional.) “Yes,” the boy panted, lip slipping out from between his teeth. 

Ives’ eyes were sparkling as well, though mainly with arousal. “Mm,” he hummed as he nuzzled Tim’s cheek. “Jase?”

“Yeah,” Jason grunted, the extent of his ability to give approval of this idea. He moved behind Tim to sandwich between them and the mattress. 

Almost immediately, Tim was squirming underneath them. “Ives… Jase…” he moaned, obviously liking the idea very much.

Ives pet Tim’s hips while the brunet continued to squirm. “Mm, Tim…”

Tim’s arms twined around Ives’ neck, pulling the smaller redhead close against him. 

Jason remained close, just enjoying the novelty of watching his two boyfriends like this. He allowed the two boys to shift, repositioning themselves so that Tim was pressed between them instead. 

The squirming increased and Tim glanced back at him over his shoulder. “Jase, please…”

Jason groaned and rubbed his length against Tim’s lower back, absently noting the scars along the other former Robin’s body. Tim didn’t have anything as substantial as Jason did, but he had plenty of his own. 

Whimpering, Tim squirmed and rubbed his body against both of them. 

Jason kissed his neck, arms wrapping around both his lovers. Facing in front of him, Ives nuzzled Tim’s cheek and spoke lowly to him. “Feels familiar?”

“Yeah,” Tim hummed, his cheeks and ears heating up. 

Ives grinned. “Although Jason is a _lovely_ new addition.”

Jason chuckled deeply in his throat. “Yeah?”

Ives leaned over Tim’s shoulder to kiss the bigger redhead. “Mm-hm, this is what we used to do when we first started dating, grinding. Half the time we still had all or some of our clothes on.”

Tim flushed as the lover behind him groaned, able to feel Jason’s prick twitching against his skin. 

Ives looked like it was Christmas and he’d found his presents. “Can still remember exactly how Tim looked in boxers and t-shirt when we started getting up to something.”

“Sounds adorable,” Jason groaned.

“And sexy.” Ives met Tim’s eyes and smiled fondly. “And embarrassed.”

Tim turned red at the compliments. 

“Remember when I talked you into having sex at my house?” Ives asked him hotly. 

Tim’s blush increased. “Mm-hm…”

Ives’ smirk was positively wicked. “And my parents were home?”

Jason could picture the illicit moment in his mind and whimpered, pressing kisses to Tim’s neck. 

“Oh god,” Tim whimpered, squirming between them. He began to move, thrusting into Ives’ hip. 

Ives seemed content to keep going. “Mm, and we had to be so quiet.”

“Hide your faces in a pillow?” Jason asked, very turned on as well. 

“Tim bit his lip bloody.”

Tim pouted at him, accentuating his still scarred lip. 

“I’d wondered what that was from,” Jason murmured, pressing more kisses to Tim’s skin. “Poor baby.”

Tim turned his head to nuzzle against Jason’s cheek. “It was embarrassing, thought they were going to hear us.”

Ives continued to grin wickedly. “You didn't seem that worried when I was sucking you off.”

Tim moaned sweetly as Jason resumed rubbing his cock into his lower back. “Ives…”

“Yes, dear?” Ives asked impishly. 

“Keep going,” Jason interrupted the flirting, “close…” All the talk had completely done him in by this point. 

His two lovers gasped and moaned, both going silent and moving with him. Jason watched, breathless, as they started to kiss again, sloppily and making wet sounds as they rocked together. Tim broke it first, panting hard for more air while Ives seemed content to place more kisses along his jaw. 

Jason moaned, content to watch as he rocked into Tim’s slender body. “Fuck, you two are sexy,” he told them, just to make sure they knew that. 

“Jase,” Tim whimpered, though Ives continued to grin as if he already knew. 

Jason nibbled at the shell of Tim’s ear, making the brunet moan louder than his boyfriends expected. 

“Looks like he likes that,” Ives panted softly in amusement. He reached down between him and Tim, touching their boyfriend’s erection. 

Jason groaned rather than replying verbally. 

He noticed, almost too late, that Tim had sucked in his lower lip, and Ives leaned back in to kiss him, drawing the mistreated lip back out properly. Tim’s body between them finally loosened up entirely and Tim’s movements grew more frantic. He came, crying out into Ives’ mouth and coming all over the smaller redhead’s stomach. 

Jason let Ives focus on cuddling Tim while he took advantage of his relaxed seat, sliding his penis between Tim’s thighs and thrusting rapidly. He didn’t last much longer, his climax building quickly from all the stimulation and the attractiveness of his two lovers. He groaned against Tim’s hair as he spilled his seed between the brunet’s muscled legs. 

He wrapped his arm around both of them, nuzzing Tim’s hair while Ives thrust into Tim’s hand until he came as well. They laid together in their tangle of limbs, catching their breaths and enjoying the closeness and heat. 

“We’re like a very confused, sweaty octopus,” Tim said. 

Ives snorted. “As he should be with four extra arms.”

“Nah,” Jason said. “This is as exactly arms and legs as we need.” He caressed Ives’ hair reassuringly. “Shower?”

“But that’ll lead to more sex,” Tim whined.

“We'll take turns. Ives first.”

“Why me?” Ives asked tiredly, his eyes already closed. 

“Okay. Tim first.” 

Tim whimpered, now in complaint instead of pleasure. “But cold.”

Jason sighed against Tim’s hair. “Fine, I'll go first. You can stay in the sticky sheets.” He didn’t really care. He also just wanted to lie there with them, but he didn’t want to be sweaty, either.

“Mm, ‘kay,” Tim mumbled tiredly. 

Jason covered his lovers with his jacket, to keep them extra toasty, before disappearing into the bathroom and gratefully stepping into the shower. 

-

Ives snickered tiredly. “We totally have him wrapped around our little fingers.”

Tim’s blue eyes fluttered open, smiling at his old friend shyly. “Mm-hm. S’nice.”

Ives smiled wider. “Yay us?”

Tim giggled his little sleepy laugh, one Ives was very familiar with, as he snuggled against him happily. 

Ives cuddled him close, content to drift off. In his mind, showering could wait until later, when the three of them felt better rested and could share one together. 

Suddenly, something in the jacket crumpled. It was not the kind of sound leather generally made. 

“Mm?” Tim let go in order to reach into one of Jason’s pockets, finding the offending noise maker. 

“Mmf, shh, sleeping,” Ives complained.

“Sorry,” Tim murmured, carefully unfolding the letter. 

Ives forced his eyes open. “Wha's it?” 

Tim smiled as he read the crumpled note. “It's from Conner.”

“Who?”

“Superboy.” Tim absently set the note behind him before cuddling close once again. “I’ll call him later.” 

“Mm, should I be jealous? What'd he say?”

“To answer your first question, no.” Tim kissed him sweetly and petted his ginger hair. “He’s just a good friend. And he was just reminding me that he cares.”

“Mm, okay.” It was something Tim still needed reminding, even if some people believed otherwise. That was just how Tim’s depression worked. “Sleep.”

Tim’s eyes drifted closed again. “‘Kay.”

They were both well asleep by the time Jason got out of the shower and returned to them. 

End.


End file.
